Bested Thrice
by scriberated
Summary: What if Hook had bested Emma in their duel, and Emma was forced to resort to her feminine wiles to win?
1. Prologue

**A/n: Hello everyone! This is my new multi-fic Captain Swan story. We're in for a bumpy ride, so I hope you're all ready! Please review and let me know what you think! Enjoy!**

* * *

"I had no idea you had such a soft side," Emma mocked calmly, feeling the adrenaline course through her veins.

"I don't," He replied in a cavalier tone. "I just like a fair fight," He finished, engaging her blade. He came at her strongly, the blade moving as a part of his arm. Emma fought back with difficulty, at a disadvantage with his experience and strength. She parried his blow, struggling to keep her ground as he kept their blades engaged, pressing into her firmly until their faces were mere inches apart.

"Good form," He complimented with a smile, catching her ankle with his hook as she attempted to kick him back. He tugged her leg backwards slightly to rest on his hip, the sudden movement causing her to stumble into him. With a flick of his wrist, Hook took advantage of the situation and disarmed her, sending her to the ground. "But not good enough," He whispered, seeing the slight panic in her eyes.

Emma could feel Henry slipping away as Hook trapped her blade between his hook and sword. He would kill her now, she was sure. She was close to the compass, could see the gold glimmering in the sunlight, even partially buried in the sand. She had come too far to be bested now.

"Normally, I'd prefer to do other enjoyable activities with a woman on her back," He said, forcing their locked blades to the side as he kneeled and straddled her. "But with my life on the line, you've left me no choice." He smirked down at her, seeming to enjoy her vulnerability. "Bit of advice? When I jab you with my sword, you'll feel it. You might want to quit," He advised, feeling self-assured with her defeat.

Looking into his eyes, feeling the friction of their momentarily joined hips, she knew what she had to do. In a split second decision she ignored their blades between them and raised her head upwards, pressing her lips to his, capturing them with all the desperation she felt. Her tongue plundered his mouth as it opened in surprise, kissing him with all that she had left in her to do. It took him a moment, only a moment, for him to respond, kissing her back with equal fervor. She felt the stubble scratch her chin, felt his teeth tease her bottom lip. With one powerful flick of his wrist, their blades disengaged and were sent flying a few feet away. His hand curled in her hair, tilting her head up for better access.

Emma obliged, letting their bodies meld together during the searing kiss. Her hand searched the sand and closed around the compass. She could feel his desire through their clothes, could taste it on his tongue; she resisted the urge to smirk. Men. They never learned. She sat up slowly, pressing her hips into his and relishing in the sharp gasp he gave. She kissed him more fervently, pushing him backwards until their positions were switched, until she straddled him in the most intimate of ways. His hand rested on her hip, his thumb sliding under her shirt to stroke her bare skin. She ground her hips against his, kissed him and clung to him, using his lust to drive away rational thought. She waited until the opportune moment arrived, waited until she could feel all the tension and suspicion leave his body - until he was too overcome by her seduction to think. And then she stopped.

"Now why would I want to do that, when I'm winning?" She murmured against his lips, before disengaging and leaning back slightly. The lust had properly addled his brain; he didn't even see her fist coming at him until it was too late. She stood, leaving his unconscious form in the sand with the compass clenched in her fist, before rushing to her mother's side.

"Now let's go home!"


	2. Chapter 1: Desire

**A/n: Here's the official first chapter. Happy reading!**

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Killian stood at the bow of his ship, his arms crossed. This little Port town was where his crocodile had made his home, where the Queen had sent an entire country full of people to spend thirty years in misery. Killian licked his cracked lips, the cold wind chilling him; he was disgruntled to realize he could still taste Emma on his lips. The phantom feeling of her tongue sweeping his mouth, her lithe body crushed against him, lingered in his mind and in his body. The wind was cold, but he could feel the warmth of her body against him. He remembered, quite vividly, the grinding of her hips against his.

He had spent so long working towards his revenge, working towards getting to this place, that he had seldom done anything or let anything distract him from his mission. Yet now that he was here, he felt quite content to take his time. This land was new and strange, and he was cautious to waste his chance at revenge on recklessness. No, this had to be handled with care. He would infiltrate this town, these people, much in the same way that he infiltrated the survivor's encampment in the Enchanted Forest. He would learn everything he could about Rumpelstiltskin's whereabouts, about his patterns of behavior, about his weaknesses. And when the moment was right, he would strike.

Killian growled; the phantom sensations were back; this time they were Emma's fingertips trailing down his chest. He closed his eyes, reveling in the memory. For all of his flirtation, he had not been touched in such a way since Milah's death. He had viewed such a thing as a betrayal to her memory. Women came and went, he flirted and took what he need from them, and left. Emma Swan, however, was a different creature altogether. She resisted his advances at every turn, bested him at his own game of deception, and when he thought he'd had her beaten - her skills with a sword _did_ leave something to be desired, and he'd years of experience on his side - she turned the tables on him. She had looked at him with those damnable stormy blue eyes, panicked at first and then resolved, and then she had kissed him. 'Twas a soul searing kiss, a kiss most men only dream of receiving from a beautiful woman - a kiss designed to lure a man to his downfall.

And fell he had. All the times he had attempted to seduce her, he was the one who fell for her game of seduction, and at a critical moment in their plans. Of course, killing the Giant and taking the bean had provided him with a second option, so the situation wasn't quite as dire as it seemed. Still, she had bested him - thrice, that made it. Cora, while sparing him because of his second way to Storybrooke, departed his company shortly after they arrived - for which he was immensely thankful - and annulled their partnership. The wind stilled for a moment and Killian suddenly recalled the smell of her hair; he glared at the port town, willing his darkening gaze to catch her somehow and make her feel his wrath.

He had to have her. The memory of her tender touches and passionate kiss was already proving to be a distraction; he would have her before his revenge with Rumpelstiltskin was complete.

"You will be mine, Emma Swan," Killian vowed to the wind, eyes set on the town. "I swear it."

* * *

Emma relished holding her son close as they walked to Granny's. Henry was incredibly affectionate under normal circumstances, but after being forcibly separated from her for so long, he was glued to her side. She could hardly blame him and, if she were being honest, she was a little clingy too. At present, she and Henry were staring resolutely ahead and discussing her adventure in the Enchanted Forest - to look behind them would be to scar themselves for life as Charming and Snow made up for lost time. Neither Henry nor Emma were keen on witnessing such a prolonged reunion. They entered Granny's and were greeted with cheers and hugs, and for the first time in a very long time Emma felt at home.

"Mom!" Henry called her attention, and Emma felt the small thrill she received at hearing him call her that. She had discouraged it before, reluctant to mess up his life and confuse him any further - Regina had raised him after all - but now... now she didn't mind. She welcomed it.

"What?" She asked, smiling at his excitement.

"Tell me about Captain Hook!" Henry demanded, his hazel eyes afire with curiosity.

Emma frowned and glanced at Snow, realizing that her mother must have let it slip when she was telling their tale to Charming. The memory of her seduction flashed before her eyes, recalling the calluses on his fingers as they tangled in her hair and stroked the back of her neck. She fought down a blush and began to tell Henry about meeting Hook, and their subsequent dealings - omitting certain things, to preserve his innocence. She felt a twinge of regret for her initial betrayal; Hook had been telling the truth when he'd said that he wouldn't have done the same. Still, she was home, and that was what mattered.

Emma drove Henry home in the evening, figuring that Regina had certainly proven her desire to change for the better - she earned a night home with her son. Though Emma was reluctant to release Henry after just getting him back, she was too tired to entertain him for long. The party was still going on in Granny's but she didn't want to go back; sleeping was higher on her agenda than anything else. She parked her car in Granny's parking lot and headed to the Inn, which was only a short walk from the diner. She had gotten a room key from Ruby earlier in the evening, determined to escape her parents' loving reunion. Emma shuddered. If there was one beneficial thing to growing up an orphan, it was to never have to worry about walking in on your parents. She decided to stay at the Inn indefinitely, sure that her parents would want the apartment to themselves.

She settled into her room, heading straight for the shower. She never thought she'd miss modern conveniences this much, had never thought of herself as remotely spoiled until her trek through the Enchanted Forest. She exited the shower and put her hair up in a loose ponytail, discarding her towel to the floor as she searched for the clothes Ruby swore she gave her. It was as she was rifling through the dresser drawers that she felt that keen, hair-on-the-back-of-your-neck-prickling sensation. She turned around and felt her jaw drop; it took half a second to realize she was still naked. She scooped the towel up from the floor and fastened it around her, levying a glare at the man leaning against the doorframe.

"No need to cover up on my account, love," Hook said, smirking, his blue eyes raking over her form.

"How the hell did you get here?" Emma asked, not sure if she was actually seeing him or imagining it.

He cocked his head to the side, his eyes still traveling over her body. "A magic bean," He replied candidly, seeming utterly disinterested.

"Meaning Cora is here too," Emma murmured, a frown marring her features. "Great."

She turned her back to him, searching the drawers with one hand while the other kept the towel in place. She resisted the urge to shiver when she felt his eyes on her back. 'I will not be cowed,' Emma thought, doing her best to ignore him. 'I am a grown woman. I can handle this.'

"Nothing else to say love?" Hook inquired, his tone silky.

"Nope," Emma replied, refusing to look at him and rise to the bait. He wanted to talk about their little tryst at the lake; she didn't.

She found the pajama set she was looking for and couldn't resist the small crow of triumph that escaped her. She turned, ready to change in the bathroom, only to find Hook completely blocking her path. They were mere inches apart, as they had been before, but there was a darkness in Hook's eyes now - something that had not been there before. Emma glared at him. "Leave," She commanded trying to move past him.

He sidestepped her, once again in her way, this time stealing the clothes out of her hands. "No," He replied, his eyes resting on her lips. "Not until I get my goodnight kiss," He smirked, licking his lips.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Funny. From what I understood, you were 'done with me'." She quoted, cocking her head to the side.

"Oh, I was, before you decided to seduce me and then knock me out cold while you escaped - bit harsh love, really - and this is the result. I'm in love with you Emma Swan." He said mockingly, passionately, with mischief in his eyes and cruel smirk on his lips.

Emma rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders, attempting to keep the towel from slipping. "Your mood swings are giving me whiplash," She told him, irritated. "Can I have my clothes back now that you've had your fun?"

"Still waiting for my kiss, darling," He replied.

Emma made her decision and, still glaring at him, crossed the room calmly and turned out the light, dousing the room in darkness. She pulled back the sheets of the bed and climbed under them, letting the towel slide off only after she was safely wrapped in her burrito of sheets.

"Oh, darling, don't be like that. We promised to never go to bed angry!" He whispered forlornly; Emma didn't need to see him to know that he was pouting dramatically.

"Go away, Hook," She replied, tossing a pillow in the direction of his head.

She heard him catch it with a chuckle; he sat down on the bed and began stroking her bare shoulder with the pad of his thumb. She shivered under his touch, heard him chuckle in the darkness, and rolled over to face him. He was laying down now, facing her; she could make out the contours of his face in the shadows. She gripped his wandering hand in the darkness, gently stroking the palm of his hand, before her fingers curled around his pinky finger and bent it backwards with surprising viciousness. He gave a painful bark of surprise, recoiling from her touch and ultimately falling off the bed with a distinctively harsh thud.

Emma snorted, feeling completely self-satisfied. "Goodnight, Hook," She told him, satisfied that he would leave after her assault. When she didn't hear any movement, she reluctantly slid to the other side of the bed and peered over the edge; Hook was grinning up at her with mischief and lust. He grabbed her 'round the neck and hauled her off the bed, pressing her into the floor as he rolled on top of her.

She struggled, mentally chastising herself for falling for it, but was unable to move; he had her well pinned down. His hand wandered down the length of her sheet-covered body, resting in the crook of her neck as she glared up at him. She had only a few seconds of warning before his mouth covered hers in a tender kiss, his lips soft and warm against her own. She felt herself given for half a second, felt herself relax into the kiss, until she felt him smile against her lips; the spell was broken. Her eyes snapped open and she shoved him off of her; he let her this time, having gotten what he came for. He stood, staring down at her with unrepentant lust in his eyes, and placed the clothes on her bed, backing out of the room slowly.

"That wasn't so hard was it?" He asked, smirking. "I'll see you tomorrow, Emma. _Sweet dreams_," He left, the door closing with a click behind him.

Emma relaxed into the floor, her mind plagued with an overload of information. He was here, in Storybrooke, and apparently no longer angry with her - or if he was, he was certainly redirecting it. Cora was here, somewhere, doing God knows what. They would have to be dealt with in the morning. She unraveled the sheet from her body and put on the pajamas, her lips still tingling from the kiss. She went to bed, pulling the sheets up to her chin and relaxing into the comfortable bed. The pressure of his fingers could still be felt on the back of her neck.

"This is going to be a problem," Emma breathed, sighing.

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**A/n: ****Don't you think that blue review button is pretty? And the empty comment box is sad?**


	3. Chapter 2: Distractions

**A/n: Thank you so much for the positive reviews! I'm ecstatic that you're all enjoying this. Here's the next chapter!**

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Hook retired to his ship late in the evening, having happened upon Emma returning to her residence. He hadn't intended on following her, on instigating anything just yet, but when his eyes rested upon her... he felt as a man possessed. Whereas before, his memory supplied the phantom sensations every once in awhile, a scent or gentle touch here or there, but seeing her... he received all of those delicious sensations at once. His head buzzed with the desire to touch her.

Happening upon her under the circumstances he had, a small towel covering not much at all, had been almost more than he could bear. He smirked at the memory; she resisted just to be stubborn, he was sure. She felt the same lust as he, though she was reluctant to admit it. But admit it she would; she would succumb to him in the end, and he would rejoice in it. Several times, he was sure. Emma's touch seemed to leave him insatiable, hungry for more every time. It would take quite a bit of lust to cure him of this distraction.

He rowed the dingy back to his ship, rejoicing in the quiet of the ocean waves breaking against it. He had missed the ocean, had never quite managed to feel at home anywhere else but on a ship. He climbed aboard his vessel and made his way to his cabin; it was exactly as he had left it. Maps strewn here and there, books lining the walls, and a lavishly large and comfortable bed in the corner. Being Captain had it's advantages. He shrugged out of his jerkin and leather trousers and slipped into bed; nude was the only to sleep, in his opinion. His lips twitched upward slightly; apparently Emma agreed. Even thinking her name conjured smells and phantom touches. He drifted off to sleep, her name rattling around in his mind and the warmth of her kiss on his skin.

* * *

Cora stood atop the building observing the quiet life of the town. There were celebrations occurring in every facet, the townspeople rejoicing at the return of their Queen and beloved Princess. Her daughter was at home with her son, Cora knew, and not a part of the festivities. She considered crashing the party, revealing herself and letting those fools know that they had not triumphed, but refrained. She had more class than that. She would let them have their petty celebration tonight. Besides, it was more to her advantage that they not know she was here. She had already noted Hook stalking Emma in the dead of night; she grimaced.

That man simply couldn't seem to understand what it was to refrain. She could see the attachment developing, the obsession, and wondered how it would bode for Rumple. Certainly the pretty blonde would prove to distract Hook, giving Cora more time to enact her plan, but Cora had yet to decide whether this would be beneficial or not. True, she and Hook were no longer allies per say, but she was not yet finished with him, she had a feeling.

She supposed, however, that no harm could come from him attempting to seduce the woman; what better distraction could there be? Perhaps he would even succeed, and Emma's attention would be diverted from her son and saving the town from her wickedness. Still, she was resolved to keep an eye on the situation and end it if need be. Her daughter didn't need her just yet, and Cora knew how to be patient; it would not be too much trouble to wait a little while longer.

* * *

The next morning found Emma awake quite early. It was six in the morning, earlier than she normally woke, yet she felt well-rested. 'It probably has something to do with the bed,' Emma thought. She was definitely not a camper. Sleeping on the ground just wasn't appealing to her at all. She slid out of bed and changed out of the borrowed pajamas and into her clothes from the night before. It was Monday, and Henry had school today. If she knew her son at all, he would be waiting for her at Granny's to have their morning cup of hot chocolate by seven. She left the Inn and made her way to her car in Granny's parking lot. It seemed surreal to be back in her world, to shower and sleep in a bed and not worry about whether or not an Ogre was going to eat her in the middle of the night.

She drove to the apartment, parking in the street; she noted that the lights were on in the apartment. Snow was probably preparing to go back to work as a teacher. Emma jogged up the three flights of stairs to their apartment, pausing outside the door. She stared at it uncomfortably for a few moments, unsure whether to knock. Technically it was still her apartment... Emma sighed and knocked anyway, not wanting to walk in on something that would scar her further.

"Who is it?" Snow called out, a giggle in her voice.

Emma smiled upon hearing it. "Emma," She replied. "Is it safe to enter?"

The door flung open and Snow embraced Emma warmly, laughing. "Of course! Come on in! I just finished making breakfast."

Emma raised an eyebrow, stepping into their apartment. A veritable breakfast buffet was laid out before them, pancakes, bacon, eggs - you name it - waiting to be devoured.

"Sit, sit!" Snow ordered, bustling back to the kitchen and pouring Emma a cup of coffee.

Emma did as she was told, looking at Charming with mild alarm and confusion. He looked happy, but still sleepy - much like the way she felt. He chuckled when seeing her expression. "Snow's kind of a morning person," He whispered affectionately, his lips twisting upwards into a soft smile.

For a moment, Emma wished they weren't her parents. It would have been so easy to joke and comment on how there was probably a correlation between Mary-Margaret's chipper mood and the fact that she had gotten laid by her true love. Had they still been just roommates, or even best friends, Emma would have. But not now. Not when these were her parents. She shuddered for a moment, trying to banish the thought of her parents doing the naked tango. Snow had yet to stop talking, she noted with a smile of her own.

She swallowed uncomfortably, not wanting to ruin Snow's happiness. She wished that she could let them believe all was well, even just for a little while longer, but to do so would be endangering them all.

"Snow," Emma addressed her softly, her tone taut and troubled.

Her mother pivoted on her heel, Emma's tone catching her attention. "Yeah? Oh, am I talking too much? People tell me I can be too chipper in the mornings. I'll stop talking, if you'd like," And all of a sudden she was Mary-Margaret again, the sweet, insecure, mild-mannered elementary school teacher.

Emma shook her head, reminding herself that they were the same person. "We have a problem."

Snow set her cup of coffee down and glanced at her husband, who seemed to straighten slightly. "What's up?"

Emma swallowed, sighing. "Cora made it through. She's here."

The silence was deafening. Snow's jaw dropped and closed, shaking her head in disbelief. "How do you know?" She asked, looking at Emma imploringly, as though she wished Emma was wrong.

"I got a visit last night from Hook," Emma admitted reluctantly, hoping that she wouldn't probe further. The last thing she needed was to tell her parents that he had come upon her naked and essentially held her hostage. "They used a magic bean."

Charming stood, wiping his mouth with his napkin and walking around the counter to kiss his wife gently on the forehead. "It'll be okay," He pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back.

Emma could see her mother holding back tears, her face resigned.

"Will we ever get to be happy without having something hanging over our heads?" She asked, sounding broken.

Emma looked down into her coffee, feeling distinctly uncomfortable at intruding on their moment. She stood and moved into her bedroom, hurriedly changing her clothes, eager to get away from the uncomfortable situation. She forewent her red jacket, deciding to give it a break after it's constant use. She traded it in for a grey ruffled cardigan, in stead, pausing at the frame of her door. It was chilly outside, and the cardigan wasn't particularly warm. She shivered slightly, feeling phantom touches along her shoulder and collarbone. Hook. She squared her shoulders, resisting the urge to stomp her foot. She shook her head emphatically, refusing to even consider the possibility of _something_. There was nothing there, she told herself. He was a pretty face with charming demeanor and smooth voice, and nothing else. She had dealt with men like him in the past; he would be no exception.

She crossed her room to her closet, pulling it open and searching for the jacket she wanted. She knew when she had found it; the worn leather had a distinctive feel. Graham's jacket. She pulled it off the hanger and slid it over her shoulders, feeling the chill abate and a deep sense of sadness and nostalgia. What they'd had hadn't been love - but it could have been, and it would serve as a reminder to her. Most of the men she attracted were con-artists of one variation or another, and a pirate was right in her norm. Wearing Graham's jacket would serve to remind her that there were good, noble men in the world, and that at least one of them had cared for her, and one could again. She didn't need to entangle herself with deception personified to find love. She didn't _want_ to entangle herself with deception personified to find love. She _wasn't_ going to go looking for trouble, she told herself sternly. _'You have a son to think of,'_ She repeated the mantra in her mind.

She exited her bedroom, finding her parents in the same position as when she had left them. "I have to go meet Henry at Granny's before school," She told them, leaving the apartment before they had a chance to comment on her abrupt departure. The distinct affection, the sadness, was too much for her to handle right now.

She drove back to Granny's, deciding to go back for the rest of her clothes on her lunch break - when she was sure her parents wouldn't be there. She couldn't quite handle them right now, still adjusting to everything. She entered the diner, walking to the booth where she and Henry normally sat, only to stop abruptly in her tracks.

Henry was sitting in their booth, sipping his hot chocolate like he always did. What wasn't in the norm, was his current animated discussion with Captain Hook, who seemed to enjoy Henry's attention. She felt the tender kiss he had given her last night ghost over her lips; she shook herself mentally, pulling Graham's jacket around her form to remind her of her resolution.

She hoped it would be enough.

**A/n: Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment contribution in the little box!**


	4. Chapter 3: Avoidance

**A/n: Okie dokie. *rubs hands together* Here we go. Thanks so much to every who has reviewed/alerted this story! Your comments mean the world to me!**

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Emma pasted a smile on her face, unwilling to drag Henry into... whatever it was that was going on between her and Hook.

"Hey kid!" She greeted him, noting Henry's surprise; he had been to absorbed in his conversation with Hook to notice her approach.

"Hey mom," Henry grinned, scooting to the inside of the booth to make room for Emma to sit. She did so, keeping her eyes focused on her son rather than the pirate sitting across from her.

"Emma," Hook greeted, his tone light. Emma paused and glanced at him beneath her lashes, her head still turned towards Henry; he was smirking, his eyes resting on her lips. She felt a shiver trail down her spine and ignored it; her fingers rested on the sleeve of the leather jacket. _'Graham give me strength,'_

"Hook." She replied cordially, in a mild tone. "What've you guys been talking about?" She asked, nudging Henry playfully.

A megawatt smile lit up his face. "Killian was telling me about Neverland!"

"Oh was he?" Emma feigned interest, feeling her heartbeat speed up slightly. Killian. The thought of his name alone conjured inappropriate images to her mind, her recollection of his hungry gaze on her bare form making her skin tingle.

"Too right, love," Killian said, attempting to catch her eye. She refused to look at him, focusing on Henry instead.

"Did you sleep okay?" She asked, noting how tired he looked.

He nodded happily. "Yeah, I'm good." He smiled at her and then frowned, looking into his drained cup. He looked out into the restaurant, searching out Ruby. She had their back to them, talking animatedly with Archie.

"I really wish she'd just look over here and pay attention to someone else for a change," Henry said, pouting slightly. Emma looked down, fighting the smile that threatened to overcome her; it sounded like someone had a crush.

"You and me both, lad," Hook replied, and Emma looked at him without thinking, merely responding to the sound of his voice; he was looking at her, not bothering to mask his own smile. Emma's mild manners devolved as she glared at him, glancing at Henry - who thankfully hadn't noticed Hook's flirtation - and kicked him none-too-gently under the table. He let her, but caught her foot with his hand, holding it under the table. Emma tried to pull it back gently to avoid rocking the table or alerting Henry to what was going on; he didn't let go. His smile twisted into a smirk as Henry began chattering excitedly about everything that had happened while Emma was away.

Emma gave him a warning look when his hand rolled the bottom of her jeans up, gently massaging her ankle. He raised an eyebrow in kind, shaking his head when she attempted to pull it back; he inclined his head towards Henry, who was still blissfully unaware of the activities beneath the table.

She was livid. How _dare_ he do this when her son - the fact that he dared to do it at all not withstanding - was sitting right next to her? She glared at him more fiercely, ignoring how good the massage felt and trying to ignore her mind, which was beginning to wonder where else that hand might massage.

"That's it," Henry said, startling Emma and Killian out of their moment; he released her ankle in the moment of surprise. Emma felt the brief fear that he had realized what was going on. "I'm going up there." He gestured to the counter, his patience having worn thin. Emma's shoulders sagged in relief as she eased herself out of the booth to let Henry out, who marched up to the counter with a mischievous smile firmly in place; he was undoubtedly going to attempt to con Granny out of more hot cocoa. _'And he's probably going to get it,'_ Emma thought, amused. He was like his father in that way, possessing that same crooked smile and playful hazel eyes.

Hook slid out of the booth and stood, stretching in the aisle. It took this movement for Emma to realize that he was wearing modern clothing; the pirate garb had been replaced with black dress pants and a white oxford shirt, a gray, button-down wool coat with a high collar and thick black scarf. She quickly looked away before he noticed her attention, and scoot further into the booth to look outside the window. People were walking down the street, going about their lives as normal. Lucky them. She came into Granny's to have her routine cup of hot cocoa with her son and wound up playing footsy with Captain Hook while said son ogled a waitress at least fifteen years his senior.

She really needed a drink right now; the clock on the wall read seven a.m. sharp. She snorted. Well that _had_ to be a record.

"Problem, love?" Hook asked, sliding into the booth next to her.

Emma scooted further into the seat, already regretting the decision as she saw him smirk. "Several," She replied shortly.

"Tell me more, darling, perhaps I can find a way to ease your troubles," His voice dipped a decibel lower, his eyes boring into hers; his hand rested on her knee, traveling north slowly. He gave her thigh a gentle squeeze, his eyes daring her to protest.

Emma swallowed, a lump in her throat. His eyes had never seemed quite so blue before, though now they seemed deep enough to swim in.

"Here's Henry's cocoa!" Ruby said, setting the cup down with a heavy clank.

Emma nearly jumped out of her skin, sinking further into the seat as Hook leaned back slightly, his eyes slanting in irritation. Ruby looked at her, half smirking, with one eyebrow raised. Emma searched around to catch a sight of her son, who had suddenly become inconspicuous.

"He went to the bathroom," Ruby informed her, seeing her searching look. She looked at Emma intently, clearly waiting for some explanation; all Emma could do was sink into the booth in shame. She shook her head imperceptibly.

Henry returned from his jaunt to the bathroom, sliding into the opposite side of the booth with only a mild amount of confusion. A cool blush warmed his cheeks as Ruby gave him an affectionate half hug; she walked away slowly, giving Emma one of her tell-tale _"You will explain all of this to me as soon as you possibly can,"_ looks.

Henry gulped his cooling hot chocolate, and sighed happily. Emma softened at the sight of him, a small smile playing in the corners of her lips. She glanced up at the clock and felt a brief panic.

"Hey, kid! You're going to be late for school!" Emma exclaimed, forcing Hook out of the booth as she and Henry scrambled to leave.

"Bye Killian!" Henry called, waving enthusiastically on his way out the door.

Emma turned to glance at him briefly; he winked and blew her a kiss, his eyes filled with promise. She glared and shook her head, leaving the diner in a rush.

Killian watched them leave, relaxing into the booth with a smile on his face. He was getting to her, he was sure of it.

"Okay Pretty Boy, what exactly do you think you're doing?"

His eyebrows shot to his forehead as the pretty, scandalously attired waitress sat down across from him.

"Beg pardon?"

"Emma and your little game of footsy while the kid was sitting across from you. I swear, you two were almost as bad as Snow and Charming right after they were wed - of course, their affection was kept away from the eyes of children." Ruby scolded.

"My apologies, my lady, perhaps you would prefer that I play 'footsy' with _you_ instead?" Hook asked, cocking his head to the side as his gently nudged her foot with his own.

She looked him over with a critical eye. "Funny you should offer, considering that you don't mean it."

"Of course I do love! Why wouldn't I? You have _lovely_ assets," He asked, smirking, as his eyes traveled over her low-cut shirt in an exaggerated fashion.

"Because," Ruby said, smiling. "First of all, I can tell when I man is genuinely interested in me, or my assets - you're not, and only pretending to be. Secondly, you haven't answered my question."

"I'm just a simple man, lass, a simple man with simple pleasures," Hook replied, glancing away and feigning boredom with the subject.

"And one of those pleasures is screwing with my friend and her kid?" Ruby asked seriously, her tone biting.

Hook seethed, any trace of his genteel nature evaporating. "Absolutely not. I play no games."

"Good," Ruby purred, leaning over to look him in the eye. "Because if you did, you and I might find ourselves playing hide and seek in the moonlight,"

"And this is supposed to deter me... how, exactly?" Killian replied, leaning forward and licking his lips teasingly.

"I may or may not be spouting a tail and very large, very sharp teeth," Ruby's eyes glinted gold for a split second, causing Killian to lean back and re-evaluate the woman in front of him.

"My, what big eyes you have," Killian commented snarkily, his irritation growing.

"All the better to see you with, dear Captain. Stay away from Emma, and Henry," She ordered, glaring at him. "Seek your revenge, have it or die trying - either way, leave." She stood and graced him with a brilliant smile. "And have a nice day! First meal's on the house," She walked away to service another customer, never giving him a second glance.

Killian stood and exited the diner, his hands in the pockets of his coat.

"What is _wrong_ with the women of this world?" He muttered, turning to return to his ship.

"That, my friend, is the million-dollar question every man in this town asks himself at some point or another," A familiar voice commented behind him.

Killian turned on his heel and smiled, extending his hand to greet the man in front of him. "Jefferson,"

Jefferson accepted the hand and shook it, smirking in return. "Hook. It's been awhile,"

"Aye," Killian acquiesced. "How have you fared in this land?"

"Oh, well enough, apart from that whole curse thing," Jefferson replied drolly.

Hook nodded, smiling. _'How I hate this man,'_ He thought, barely restraining his show of contempt for Rumpelstiltskin's apprentice.

"Still determined to have your revenge then?" Jefferson asked, his tone calm and curious.

"Aye, more than ever," Killian replied, seeing no harm in making his intentions known. Let the crocodile know he was coming.

Jefferson nodded and clucked his tongue. "Best of luck with that," He replied, walking away without another glance.

Killian shook his head. Neverland had changed him, to be sure, but Wonderland had broken Jefferson. Not for the first time, Killian felt quite glad that he had not tarried in Wonderland as Jefferson had the first time. He contemplated going directly after Rumpelstiltskin, having discovered his location via Smee this morning, but dismissed it. No, he wanted to savor his revenge. Let the crocodile know that he was in town, biding his time. Now that they were in a land without magic, Killian had all the time in the world.

He glanced at the pocket watch in his coat - half past seven. This, according to the information he had gathered, would be right around the time that Emma would be heading to the station. He had scoped the place out earlier, finding it incredibly amusing that his would-be pirate was the physical manifestation of the law in this realm. He faced the opposite direction, choosing to head to her apartment instead. Her charming mother would be gone for most of the day, as her position of school teacher required several hours of her attention, and Emma would be quite preoccupied with settling in to her old life.

Killian took his time in walking to her apartment, feeling no need to rush. He was out for mischief today; Emma was still attempting to dismiss him, and she needed a push in the right direction. His direction. Even if it was only to retrieve some of her personal property. He walked up the three flights of stairs quite calmly, noting the numbers on the doors until he arrived at the one Smee had told him housed the siren and her uptight mother. He tried the knob first, having learned that it never hurt to try, before pulling out his lock picking kit and beginning his work. While this lock mechanism was newer, more advanced than the kind that he was used to - it proved just as easy to pick as any other.

The door swung open and Killian gingerly stepped inside, taking stock of the apartment proper. The decorations were clearly not to his minxes taste, but he could identify small signs that indicated Emma's residence; her red leather jacket lay across the top of her bed, a pair of boots by the door that clearly did not belong to her mother...

"Who the hell are you?" Barked a deep, angry voice from the top of the stairs in the loft.

For all of his calculations and his scheming, Killian could not remember a time in his life when he had ever been quite so stupid, for despite being incredibly familiar with the tale of Snow White, the eminent White Queen of the Enchanted Forest, he had forgotten one _very_ important thing.

Prince Charming.


	5. Chapter 4: Revenge

**A/n: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed/alerted/favorited this. The positive response has been overwhelming and I can say nothing except thank you so, so much. This chapter is a bit of a filler chapter; I split it into two parts because it was getting too long. The second part should be along shortly, but with finals looming... Anywho, please leave me a review with your comments/questions - it's much appreciated!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Killian felt his lips twitch upwards into a grin; it became all too apparent, all too quickly, which parent Emma took after. Prince Charming came down the stairs cautiously but quickly, crossing his arms over his chest. Killian had been in enough brawls to know when a man was sizing him up, and found himself quite keen to test this man. The stories of this man's skill with a sword were legendary, even among thieves, and Killian was nothing if not curious.

"I would think that would be fairly obvious, your majesty," Killian said, knowing better than to try and charm his way out of this conflict.

Charming looked at him, his eyes piercing Killian perceptively before coming to rest on the hook on Killian's left hand for a moment. His eyes traveled back up to meet Killian's own, his stance becoming nonchalant. "Captain Killian Jones, also known as Hook, and thirty-two other pseudonyms. Self-proclaimed Pirate King out for revenge against Rumpelstiltskin for the death of your lover. The man who nearly separated me from my wife and daughter for eternity," Charming's tone grew colder the longer he spoke.

"I did what I had to do," Killian defended himself, shaking his head. "I'm sure your delightful wife has already filled you in on the particular circumstances."

"Like how you tried to kill my daughter?" Charming's tone, if it had been cold before, seemed to be three octaves lower.

Killian scoffed. "Come now, I'm a pirate with over three hundred years worth of fighting expertise. If I wanted her dead, she'd be dead. As it stands..." Killian trailed off, wisely choosing not to finish his thought aloud. 'As it stands I want her in an entirely different fashion,'

"See, that's what I said - and then she told me that it was your arrogance that was your downfall. Now I think I understand what she meant," Charming's lip curled into a sneer, and Killian could clearly see which parent Emma took after.

It was at this moment that Killian knew what it was he would have to do to achieve the means to his end. He'd initially planned on taking her red leather jacket, something she would notice immediately, but now Killian couldn't help but think of how quickly she would come running when she arrived home to find her home in disarray, and her father injured. She would be furious. He smirked. Well, subtle wasn't quite his style anyway. He drew his sword slowly, making his intentions quite clear to the Prince.

The Prince straightened, nodding, and unsheathed his sword, discarding the scabbard immediately. Killian identified the fighting style as one used by the Royal Guard - unsurprising as he was a Prince - but noted the position of his shoulders, a deviation from the technique. He was going to enjoy this.  
Killian grinned. "Shall we, my liege?"

* * *

Emma grunted in annoyance, crossing and uncrossing her legs every five minutes. She tried to focus on her paperwork. Fingertips ghosted over her skin, searing the flesh of her ankle and the warm weight of his palm against her neck. She groaned, rolling her eyes towards the clock. Noon. She packed up her desk and tried to shoulder off the strange sensations. She was just going to have to avoid him until these...feelings went away. Emma stopped outside the station and reluctantly walked to her car; normally she'd eat at Granny's for lunch, but now that Hook had seen her there... No, she would eat lunch at home today.

Thankfully, the drive to her apartment was a short one; every time she sat down, Emma could feel his hand gently squeezing her thigh. She felt frustrated, in more ways than one. Even as a teenager her hormones hadn't been this bad! She jogged up the stairs, hoping the three flights of stairs would help her burn some pent up energy. Whether by her job as Sheriff, or perhaps her past as a criminal, Emma knew something was off before she got to the top of the stairs. The hair on the back of her neck began to prickle keenly, in a pleasant sort of way. She attempted to disregard it as pent up nerves, attempted to ignore the fact that the last time she had felt this was when Hook showed up in her hotel room.

'Please no, please no, please no,' She chanted in her head, climbing the stairs slowly. She reached the top and walked to the end of the hallway, her eyes drawn to the door of her apartment, which was ajar. She sighed, her eyelids fluttering closed briefly. 'It couldn't have happened after I got a full night's rest and had time to readjust to this world?'

Emma approached the door quietly, pulling the gun out of the back of her jeans. She heard the quiet noise of the tv, some reality tv show playing softly in the background. Not one to beat around the bush, Emma decided to take her element of surprise; she kicked the door open and entered quickly, her gun raised. The entire apartment was destroyed; rips and tears in every couch cushion, shattered glass from a vase, broken dishes. David was lying on the floor, no life-threatening, visible damage apart from a nasty gash he'd taken to the head.

Emma surged forward and checked his pulse, noting his steady breathing pattern, and checked the rest of the apartment to make sure the assailant wasn't still around. She called the hospital first, asking them to send an ambulance, before calling her mother and informing her of the attack. Emma sat down next to him, cradling his head in her lap. She barely knew this man, and what she did know of him - the Storybrooke him, that is - she didn't like. Yet, she felt fiercely protective of him, much in the same way she felt protective of Mary-Margaret. He was her father, and though she had only known him for a short while, she was startled to realize that it meant something. She cared about him, as more than just a citizen in the town she had sworn to protect.

His eyes opened slowly, and Emma smiled gently. "Hey,"

He was disoriented, the confusion apparent. "Emma..." He rasped, shaking his head as though to clear his thoughts. "Hook..."

"Hook?" She asked, her tone biting. She felt the blood run cold. "Hook did this?" She asked, clarifying.

David nodded weakly, coughing as he tried to sit up. "Pirate...cheated..."

"Easy," Emma murmured, helping him. On the outside, she was calm. On the inside, she was boiling. The paramedics arrived and carted him away, even despite his many protests and desperate pleas to Emma to not let them take him. Emma refused, telling him that he needed to see a doctor - and that his wife would be waiting for him at the hospital.

"Miss, are you coming?" A paramedic asked, ready to close the door behind him.  
Emma considered it, knowing that this was probably one of those 'family' moments that was supposed to bring everyone together; she shook her head. She didn't feel like bonding with her family just then. She felt like killing someone. No, not someone. Him. He needed to be taught a lesson, and it looked like she was going to be the one handing out the punishment.

"No," She said aloud, her jaw clenched. "No, I'm not." The paramedic nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.

Emma saw the sword, her father's sword, lying haphazardly on the floor - undoubtedly where it was sent when Killian disarmed him. She picked it up, felt the familiar weight in her hands. Gold must have retrieved it from the Library basement at some point, returned it to her father. She could go to him, duel him, make him pay for the injury he had caused. But she didn't have the skill. She would have lost their duel back in the Enchanted Forest too, had she not been desperate enough to distract him. And, if Killian could best Prince Charming, Emma had more than enough cause to be wary.  
Emma found the sword scabbard, sheathing the blade and attaching it to her hip. She was going to arrest Killian for breaking and entering, and assault, because that was her job. She was not going after him for revenge, but for justice. The sword was just coming because she hadn't replaced her gun yet. The words sounded hollow, even to her own mind. She left the apartment as it was, too angry to really consider what she was doing.

In hindsight, she really should have.

* * *

Henry sat on the school steps, pulling his jacket more tightly around himself. It was colder now that the sun was setting. The clock tower chimed five, and he sighed, frowning. He wasn't exactly sure what he'd been expecting with Emma and Mary-Margaret's return, but it wasn't this. Mary-Margaret never came back from lunch; the substitute didn't explain why. No one came to pick him up from school. He knew something must have happened, they wouldn't have forgotten him otherwise. That didn't stop it from hurting.

He would have walked back to the apartment by himself, had it not been for the overbearing gaze of the substitute teacher. She had called his mom when no one came to pick him up, and then 'graciously' waited with him while Regina came to pick him up. He saw the car pull up to the curb and stood, giving the substitute a half smile, before pulling open the car door.

"Hey," Regina greeted him with a soft smile. "How was school?"

"It was fine," Henry said, frowning. "But Mary-Margaret went to lunch and didn't come back. What's going on?"

Regina put the car in drive, looking pointedly at the seat belt until Henry took the hint. Henry buckled it, rolling his eyes, and waited impatiently for his mother to tell him what was going on.

Regina pursed her lips. "Cora is here,"

"And Captain Hook." Henry supplied with a grin, thinking of their conversation this morning.

"How do you know that?" Regina inquired, frowning; that man was the last person she wanted around her son.

"I talked to him this morning at Granny's before school,"

"I thought you were meeting Emma for hot cocoa?"

"I was, but all the seats were taken and there was someone new sitting in our regular booth. I was curious." Henry admitted, shrugging. "He was nice."

"And what did Emma have to say about this?"

"She didn't really say much to him; they just kind of argued. I wasn't really paying attention," Henry replied, reluctant to admit that he saw more than he let on. "But what's going on? Why didn't Emma pick me up, or Charming, and why did Mary-Margaret leave?"

"David was attacked. He's not seriously injured," She rushed to assure him, seeing the concerned expression. They pulled into the driveway of their home, and Henry exited the car quickly. "We can go to the hospital to visit him after I changed my clothes," Regina said, gesturing to her outfit; Henry then notice the paint splatters and ratty t-shirt she was wearing. His lips twitched upwards into a smile, never having seen his mother look anything but put together; it was when he saw the red paint in her hair that the laughter started.  
"What is so funny?" She asked, an amused but confused expression on her face.

"You might want a shower too," Henry said, grinning. He reached up pulled a paint chip out of her hair, showing her. She reached up and tried to finger-comb through her hair, only to be met with resistance; the paint had already dried. She laughed too, putting an arm around his shoulders.

"After I shower, and change, we'll go visit David in the hospital and try and come up with a plan," Henry hugged her around the waist, and Regina felt her resolve grow; the Charming family was a part of his life now, and she would have to accept them if she wanted her relationship with Henry to flourish.

She unlocked the door and set her keys on the end table by the door, shrugging off her coat to hang on the hook by the door. Henry came in behind her and shut the door, setting his backpack down. He sniffed the air, and looked up at her curiously.

"Were you baking?"

Regina shook her head and frowned, smelling it too. Apple pie. The pair wandered through the dining room into the kitchen; Regina shoved Henry behind her.

"Welcome home dear!" Cora said, smiling as she took the pie out of the oven. "I hope you're hungry."

"Hello, mother," Regina greeted her, venom seeping into her tone.


	6. Chapter 5: Heart's Desire

**A/n: Fair warning. Smut chapter. Don't like it, don't read it. If you would prefer not to read, skip to the bottom where I will sum up the important plot information.**

**Disclaimer: I realized I forgot to put these in previous chapters. Whoops! Not mine.**

* * *

Emma strode to the docks with purpose in her stride and rage in her heart; the Pirate Ship was now docked successfully in Storybrooke's port. At least she wouldn't have to swim out to it. She slowed her pace and paused before the boardwalk. The ship was impressive, she could admit that much. Most little girls dreamed about being princesses; but most of those little girls had families. Emma Swan had only ever dreamed of being a pirate, of going to far off places and having adventures, and never needing anyone except her friends. It seemed like a pretty good dream, when she realized that pirate's didn't seem to have families either and they did just fine on their own.

She reconsidered what she was about to do; she could be walking into a trap, for all she knew, though this seemed less likely given his current infatuation with her. She cleared the doubts plaguing her mind. She had been taking care of herself since she could walk, and she could take care of Hook too - one way or another. He couldn't get away with hurting David. She boarded the ship quickly lest she change her mind. There was no one on deck, but Emma could see a light shining down a passageway into the depths of the ship - the cabins, she realized. She hesitated, her gut warning her about the narrow, dimly lit space with only one visible opening. She clenched her jaw and pressed forward; she'd grown up on the streets, knew more about starting bar fights than breaking them up. She was not afraid.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to make your way here," Hook said, his voice directly behind her left her. She hadn't even heard him come up.

She spun, and the door shut behind her. She could see the outline of his profile in the torch light, could feel how close they were though they weren't touching. He reached out and pushed a door open, the light from the cabin illuminating the hallway. Emma noted that he had returned to pirate garb, though not the black leather she was used to seeing him in.

"Care to join me for a drink?" He asked, stepping into the cabin and leaving the door open. Emma followed him, her curiosity getting the better of her. The cabin was spacious - as most Captain's cabins were, she assumed - and well decorated. A large oak table occupied the space in the middle of the room, various maps and books taking up much of the space, but for for the lower half which had been cleaned off. A pitcher of wine and two goblets had been set on a tray, and Emma felt distinctly uncomfortable with the thought that this was starting to resemble something romantic.

"Care to explain to me why you attacked David?" She replied in return, careful not to venture any further into the room than she had to.

"Well, I had to get your attention somehow, didn't I?" He smirked, shrugging his shoulders.

"Seriously? Your feelings got hurt because I, what, refused your advances, and you thought that attacking my father was a good idea?" Emma snapped, angry.

He set his goblet down and turned to her, his expression going dark. "No, Emma, because you refuse to see what's before your very eyes. Because you refused to acknowledge what is between us, and we needed to talk where we won't be interrupted."

She moved towards him in her anger, ready to throttle him. "There is _nothing_ between us, Hook, _nothing_. Whatever we are, it is _nothing,_ it means _nothing_."

"Then why are you here?" He asked sharply, his blue eyes glittering in the candlelight.

"To bring you to justice," Emma said, pulling the handcuffs out of her back pocket. "For the assault of David Nolan,"

His lips twitched upwards into a smirk. "Oh, really? So, you don't feel my fingers trailing over your skin? You can't feel me stroking the back of your neck?" He asked, his glittering, smug eyes boring into hers.

Emma immediately felt the ghostly sensations of his fingertips trailing along her collarbone. She shook her head in defiance, attempting to ignore them. "No, I don't."

He moved more quickly than she anticipated, his right hand stealing the cuffs from her and his hook ripping the sword from her waist. She was frozen for a moment, taken by surprise at his actions, but retreated when she came to her senses. She bolted for the door, a small voice in the back of her mind whispering _'I told you this was a bad idea,'_. Hook reached the door before she did, slamming it shut. He shook his head at her when she squared her shoulders, glaring at him.

"You know, for someone who grew up on the wrong side of the law, you're not a very good liar."

"Let me go," Emma ordered, sounding every bit the imperious Princess she had been born to be; Hook bolted the door shut in response.

"No, I think we need to get this sorted out," He said calmly, waiting for her to make the first move.

"There's nothing to sort out," She snapped, feeling caged.

"Oh, yes there is," He snarled back, moving forward to stand directly in front of her. Emma refused to retreat again, not backing down from his challenge.

"How is this not driving you mad, Emma? I know you can feel them - the phantom touches, the feeling of our skin pressed together, of my lips on yours. They are driving me _mad_," He admitted, breathless. Emma felt warm all over, the phantom touches returning with vigor; she noted that he looked flushed too.

"I can't think of anything else, Emma, except **you**," He bit out, wild-eyed and visibly frustrated. "I have spent _three hundred years_ planning my revenge, working towards this goal, and now when all my plans are ready to come to fruition, the only thing I can think of is _**you**_!" His arms encircled her waist and pulled her forward; she stumbled, stunned, and shuddered with the sensation of their bodies pressed together. Their skin was separated by clothing, but Emma could feel every raw, hot nerve in her body tremble with the contact.

"Tell me you don't want this, and tell the truth, and I will let you go," He commanded, his voice rough and low. He leaned forward tentatively, his forehead resting against hers. Even this simple action made Emma's heart race, and a fire ignited beneath her skin.

She opened her mouth to tell him that she didn't want him, that none of this mattered and that they would both be better off avoiding each other, and stopped. Their breaths were mingling, and Emma could taste the rum and pipe tobacco in his exhale. Her mind clouded over and the room began to feel unbearably warm; she closed her mouth.

"We can't do this," She said instead, refusing to be a hypocrite and denying the attraction. "Something... isn't right. _This_ isn't right,"

Killian gently pushed her backwards until her thighs hit the back of the table, his arms came around on either side of her and swept the various books and maps off the table, continuing to push her until she obligingly hopped up on the table, her thighs spread apart. He stepped between her legs and pulled her closer, their hips connecting intimately through their clothing. Emma placed her hands on his chest, using her arms as a buffer if she felt the need to push him away. He rolled his hips experimentally against hers, and Emma bit back a gasp, her fingers clenching the lapels of his jacket. He leaned into her, repeating the motion. "Swan, there haven't been a lot of _right_ things in my life - but _this_, this is _**right**_,"

Emma looked up at him, her eyes searching his for a trace of a lie, for some indicator that this was all a game and she should shove him away immediately; there was none. She glanced down. She could feel his entire body tense beneath her hands, could feel the taut muscles strained beneath his red vest. His right hand came to cup her cheek, tilting her head back slightly; she trembled beneath his touch, feeling the fire coiling in her belly. It was he who broke the stalemate. His fingers threaded through her hair and his lips descended on hers with all the passion he could muster. Emma felt something inside her snap, and all rational thought flew from her mind. Her hands clenched the lapels of his coat, yanking him forward.

His tongue ravaged the inside of her mouth, his teeth nipped and bruised her lower lip; Emma slipped her hands underneath his coat and slid it off his shoulders. His hand briefly released her and the coat slithered to the ground obligingly. He reached with his hook and tore a small strip in the middle of her shirt; she protested and was promptly silenced by a none-too-gentle nip of her lower lip. His lips traveled down her neck, nipping and sucking as he went, bruising the pale skin of her throat with marks of his passion. His lips reached her collarbone and he paused there, showing special attention to each inch of flesh exposed. His teeth reached the strip of fabric he had torn with his hook. His eyes met hers, the cloth beneath his teeth, and ripped it straight down the middle. The shirt parted and Emma let it slide off her shoulders and done her back, revealing the simple black bra she had elected to wear that day.

His tongue lapped at her navel, leaving soft, wet kisses from her belly button to her ribcage. He brought the tip of his hook to the inside of her bra, ready to rip it as he had her shirt; Emma had had enough of the one being teased. Locking her eyes with his, she lowered her mouth to the metal and kissed it. Her lips pursed around it, sucking on it gently; Killian was still, frozen in the moment, his eyes fixed on the sight before him. Emma reached around her back and unhooked her bra slowly, her tongue reaching out to delicately graze the tip of the hook. She straightened slightly and pulled her bra off delicately, letting it drop to the floor. Hook's eyes followed the motion, his pupils going wide at her coy smile as she slipped one finger into the top of his vest, tugging until each button came undone.

He was panting now, and Emma had the satisfaction of thinking that he probably wasn't even aware that he was doing it. It also occurred to her that this was probably the first time he had been seduced, instead of doing the seducing. Taking his hook in her hand, she turned the point on himself and dragged it down the middle of his shirt, which tore obligingly. She released his hook, which she hooked onto a belt loop of her jeans, and ripped the shirt the rest of the way, revealing his broad chest. She slipped off the table and stood before him, pulling him closer to her; she kissed his neck first, then his collarbone, and laid butterfly kisses all the way down his chest, occasionally nipping at the scars he bore. Lowering her lashes, Emma pressed an open kiss to his nipple, her tongue swirling around it gently. He inhaled sharply, and suddenly his hand was buried in her hair, yanking her head backwards; she yelped, startled for a moment, until his lips descended on her breast, sucking, licking, biting until the only sounds she could make were wanton keens.

His kisses grew more passionate, more insistent, more hungry as the frenzy increased. Emma growled in response to a particularly harsh nip, and boldly unlaced his pants with her right hand just enough to squeeze inside; she gripped his dick in her hand and felt him shudder in response as she began to gently stroke and tug. His lips left her breasts and found hers, punishing her for her teasing ways. Emma sank into the kiss, having never quite felt anything _this_ intense before. Having sex with Neal had been sweet, slow, loving, but this... this was a different animal altogether. Their lips engaged, Emma's hands disengaged and worked on unbuttoning her jeans; Killian's lips broke from hers and latched onto her pulse point, sucking harshly. Emma knew she was going to have one helluva hickey to hide come the morning. Busy as he was with her neck, he apparently noted the progress she had made with her jeans; before the zipper was completely down, his good hand was yanking the jeans below her ass, and his fingers sought out her core.

Emma relished the feeling of his calloused, skillful fingers stroking her inner heat; she bit back a moan as he stroked her, teasing her to release. Not one to let him get away with it, her own hand sought his member, giving it a particularly sharp tug when he pinched her nub roughly. She mewled under his ministrations but gave as good as she got; he groaned with her reciprocation. An intensely low growl erupted from his throat, and he abruptly pulled his hand away and spun her around; Emma lay flat over the table, her breasts pressed into the oak. Killians hand wrapped around her waist, his fingers bruising her hip; he thrust into her without warning, and Emma couldn't help the moan that escaped her. Neither could he help the sharp gasp when she squeezed him. He leaned over her, pressing further into her.

"Hell, Emma, so tight," He hissed in her ear, placing a gentle kiss into her shoulder. Emma pushed backwards, pressing more firmly into him. He pulled halfway out and thrust in abruptly, causing the table to creak under their weight. The rhythm began to form as Killian began to lose himself to the lust; Emma was already long gone by the time their rutting began. Emma bore her weight on the table, pressing against it to gather more firm friction as Killian thrust into her wildly. She jutted against him, causing him to stagger backwards slightly, and took the opportunity to turn around and face him. She hoisted herself on the table and beckoned him forward with one crooked finger. He came forward quickly, obediently, and thrust into her the moment her legs wrapped around his waist. His lips left trails of fire over her skin; her fingers dug into his hair, tugging it to direct his mouth where to move.

His eyes cleared for a moment, the feral nature evaporating as he took in the sight before him; Emma, bare and writhing underneath him, her head tipped back in ecstasy. Her eyes met his, heavy-lidded with lust and pleasure, and Killian knew, without a doubt, that he would see her this way again - one way, or another.

"I told you my dear," He whispered into the shell of her ear, catching her earlobe between his lips. "I prefer to do much more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back."

Emma growled and squeezed him in response; he hissed and shuddered within her. She smirked. "A taste of your own medicine, Killian," She whispered back, rocking her hips slowly. He shuddered, his breath coming out in harsh pants.

"Say it again," He ordered, his tone dipping a decibel.

"Killian?" She asked, her tone teasing. He picked her up from the table, causing her arms to lock around his neck. He thrust upwards, his shoulders becoming her only anchor. "Killian," She murmured again, noting the quick response she received every time she said it. His cock twitched within her, seeming to grow bigger every time she said his name. She could feel her orgasm approaching, and so could he; her folds tightened around him, her nails digging deeply into his back. He was approaching his end too; he bit down into her shoulder, hard, and tasted the blood in his mouth; fair trade, for the claw marks she was leaving in his back. They came together and the world exploded in color, and a bright golden light filled the room.

Killian sank to the floor, Emma's legs still wrapped firmly around his waist, and kissed her with all the desperation of a dying man. He lay her down on the floor and covered her body with his, placing warm kisses over every inch of sun kissed skin. It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust; they widened.

"Emma, love, I do believe you're glowing," He murmured looking over her bare body with uninhibited fascination.

She rolled her eyes and raised an eyebrow. "Really, you're fishing for compliments _now_?"

He grinned at her, swooping down for a kiss. "No, love, I mean you're _literally_ glowing," He replied, holding up one of her hands for inspection.

It was then that Emma noticed what he meant; a warm golden glow seemed to radiate from every pore of her skin.

"What the _hell_?" She asked, frowning.

* * *

**A/n: So, for those of you who skipped (if any), Emma and Hook had sex and Emma started literally glowing. Something magic-y is going on. Yep.**

**2, 800 words for those two important plot points. I always knew those skills of stretching out lengthy points in essays had to come from somewhere... Review please! They are the best thing I could ever receive this week - because, it's finals week and I probably won't be able to post anything until much, much later. Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 6: Something

**A/n: Thank you so much for everyone who has reviewed, favorited, or alerted this story! It honors me that there are 187 people following this story! I hope you enjoy this chapter - things start coming to a head.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Once Upon a Time or their affiliates. I own only the plot.**

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"Oh, and this must be Henry!" Cora exclaimed, smiling sweetly at him. Henry was immediately reminded of lyrics to the Grinch theme song; she smiled with all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile.

Henry smiled nervously, clenching Regina's hand. "Hi," He greeted her softly, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. His eyes wandered to his mother, noting her pale pallor and the resolve in her eyes. He felt the urge to run and get Charming, or his mom, or Rumpelstiltskin, but pushed aside his fear. His mom needed him; he could tell.

"What are you doing here?" Regina asked bluntly, setting her keys on the counter.

"Why, I'm here to help you dear!" Cora exclaimed with a wide smile, setting the apple pie to cool. "You know, this world really is quite fascinating - so innovative. I'm impressed,"

"I don't need your help," Regina replied, her back straightening.

"Don't you?" Cora asked in a softer tone, a small smirk playing in the corner of her lips. "The town is against you, your kingdom has fallen. Your son is about to be taken away from you. Together we can retake your kingdom, drive out the usurper. Without me, you are _alone_,"

"That's not true!" Henry cried out fiercely, glaring at the woman in front of them. He stepped into Cora's full view, in front of Regina. "She has me!"

"For how long? Do you not consider Emma to be your mother? Who will you choose when the time comes for a choice to be made?" Cora replied to Henry calmly, her eyes boring into Regina.

"They are both my mothers, and I don't need to choose between them. I love them both." Henry stated firmly, not giving an inch.

"I'm not interested in retaking anything, mother. I will always be a Queen; I don't need a kingdom. And my son has made his point quite clear, I think," Regina said coolly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You should leave," Henry suggested softly, shaking his head. "You can't win here."

Cora chuckled. "Why is that?" She asked in the same tone, curious.

"Because good always defeats evil. I love my mom, and she loves me; you don't have any power here." Henry replied, smiling.

"You foolish boy," Cora murmured, shaking her head. "I thought, perhaps, that my daughter would have raised you better. But nurture can only combat nature so far, I suppose," Lightning quick, Cora stretched forth her hand and sent Regina flying into the wall; vines uprooted the floorboards and clasped around her arms and legs.

Henry jumped but stood tall and determined against her. Cora approached him slowly. "Lesson number one, Henry: Love is weakness."

Regina hissed sharply as the vines tightened around her right arm, pressing until the pain was almost unbearable; she gave a shuddering cry as the bones in her wrist shattered.

"No!" Henry shouted, horrified.

"I have all the power, child, because magic is power. Love... love will doom you long before old age or betrayal. Love means death, child. Know that." Cora whispered. She turned to look at Regina, who merely glared at her from her position on the wall. "Perhaps my daughter didn't teach you this, because she herself forgot," Cora said after a thoughtful pause. "Perhaps it's time I remind her."

Cora moved forward with the grace of a queen, and though there was nothing threatening in her movements, Henry scrambled backwards towards the door. She raised her hands towards him, and Henry could see a dim glow begin to shine from the tips of her fingers. He flinched away, bracing himself for an attack that never came. Cora flew backwards into the hallway, her back slamming against the stair railing, destroying it. Regina stood beside Henry, her eyes glowing purple as the magic vibrated within her.

"Henry, I want you to go to your mother, and Snow and Charming - get Mr. Gold and bring them back here, okay?" Regina commanded him softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not going to leave you here!" Henry cried, wild-eyed and concerned.

"Such devotion," Cora said, standing. She brushed the wood chips and plaster off of her skirts, mirroring Regina's expression. "Well, well, my dear - you've grown claws. Let's see if you know how to use them, shall we?" A ball of pure magic, blood-red and pulsing, formed in her hand.

"Go, Henry, now!" Regina ordered harshly, shoving him to the door. "I'll be fine," She formed a fluid sphere of purple magic in her own hands, her eyes on Cora.

Henry reluctantly obeyed, sparing Cora a glance before darting out the door, running towards the town as fast as his legs would carry them.

"Shall we end this, mother?" Regina asked, her tone cold.

"Oh, my dear. This is only the beginning." Cora smiled, baring her teeth.

* * *

Snow and Charming made their way back to the apartment, arm in arm, nuzzled against one another. Charming was, as predicted, alright apart from the gash on his forehead, which didn't even require stitches. Regardless, Snow left school to go to her husband at the hospital. She was, admittedly, slightly more clingy than usual, after the sleeping curse incident and nearly being separated from him permanently.

"So," She began softly, a mischievous smile on her face. "You were beaten by a pirate,"

"He cheated!" Charming responded instantly, irritated. "I would have won if he hadn't cheated!"

She laughed. "He's a pirate, Charming. You can't mean to tell me you expected him to play fair!"

"I expected him to have honor," He replied shortly, frowning. "From what you told me, he sounded like he had a shred of honor - some code of ethics,"

Snow unlocked the apartment door and the two stepped inside; she clucked her tongue upon seeing the mess and set her purse down on the end table. She sighed and looked at her husband; Charming scratched the back of his head. "I'll get the broom."

Snow nodded and set to work straightening up as much as she could, returning pillows to their place and setting aside ones that would need to be thrown away or sewn. "He does have honor," She said, pausing to find the right words. "In his own way. He doesn't operate on the same honor code that a knight does, but there _is_ a code."

"Yeah? Well it sure as hell didn't seem like it," Charming huffed, sweeping the broken china aggressively.

"Why was he even here?" Snow asked as it occurred to her that, having been so preoccupied with her husband's stint in the hospital, she forgot to ask.

Charming paused in his sweeping for a moment, thinking. "You know...I'm not sure," He admitted reluctantly. "Not exactly, anyway. It's pretty clear that he was here for Emma, but..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I have no idea what exactly his plan was."

Snow slowed in her task, hesitant to confide to Charming what she had seen while they were in the Enchanted Forest.

"What?" He asked, seeing the look on his wife's face.

She smiled, momentarily distracted by how much she had missed him, missed someone knowing exactly what she was thinking or feeling just by her expression. She took a deep breath. "Well, it's just..." She trailed off, wringing her hands. She licked her lips nervously. "When we were in the Enchanted Forest, there were a few...moments, things I didn't tell you when I gave you the run-down on what happened."

"Moments," Charming echoed, looking at his wife in confusion.

"He's a flirt, a very... charming rake, which is not altogether surprising. But from the moment he joined our company, his attention was primarily on Emma. He flirted with all of us, but it wasn't the same. Initially, I thought it was because he thought she was the weakest link - I have you, and Aurora still had Phillip in her heart, and Mulan would sooner fall prey to the charms of weasel before him - but as time passed... I'm not so sure that was the reason why."

"What are you saying?" He asked, his tone growing sharp.

"I'm saying that there's _something_ there," She bit out, shaking her head.

"What do you mean something?" He asked, stubbornly refusing to see what she was eluding to.

She sighed exasperatedly. "He _likes_ her, Charming. Ruby told me that he propositioned Emma and Henry at the diner this morning. And though I certainly don't condone what he did in the past, or what he's likely to do in the future, I can't help but wonder if your entire sparring session wasn't just a way to... pull her pigtails."

"You think breaking into our apartment, dueling me, and then knocking me, Emma's _father_, out is his attempt to _flirt_ with her?" He asked incredulously, frowning. "Are you crazy?"

"He's a pirate!" She exclaimed, shrugging. "And I teach Elementary kids, Charming - I see this every day. He's trying to get her attention, and being the kind of man with his particular... skill set..." She trailed off, shrugging. "What else was he going to do?"

"No, this is not how courtship goes!" He shook his head, growling. "There must be another reason."

"I'm sure there is," Snow replied, frowning. "I maintain that he's out to get Emma's attention, but he's been after his revenge against Rumpelstiltskin for three-hundred years, and he's not exactly a paragon of virtue - any of them. The man screams 'ulterior motive'; it's why Emma left him chained to the top of the beanstalk. He's not trustworthy. That being said, our courtship wasn't exactly _conventional_ either, dear,"

"Speaking of Emma," Charming broke her train of thought, glancing around. "Where is she?"

Snow thought about it for a moment before shrugging. "I'm not sure. She called to tell me you were on your way to the hospital but didn't say anything else."

"You don't think she went after him?" Charming asked, concerned.

Snow let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Yes, I think she did,"

The door burst open and Henry came charging in, red in the face and out of breath.

"Henry!" Snow cried out, the realization hitting her that he had probably been left at school. "What's going on?"

Henry heaved a breath, his face panic-stricken. "Cora, at my house..." He trailed off, coughing. "Mom told me to get you guys, and Mr. Gold. Where's mom?" He asked, looking around. "And what happened?"

Charming was already pulling on his coat and Snow did the same. "I'll go find Emma," Charming said, his tone brooking no argument. "You and Henry go get Rumpelstiltskin; we'll all meet at Gold's pawnshop before heading over to Regina's."

Snow nodded and watched her husband walk out the door; she hoped, for Hook's sake, that Emma was okay.

"Okay, let's go!" She told Henry, leading him out the door.

* * *

Emma sat up abruptly, inspecting the golden hue of her skin. Killian placed gentle, sweet kisses along her shoulder blade, seeming not at all concerned with the turn of events. A cold wind blew through her, the golden glow of her skin dimming until it extinguished completely; the gentle kisses along her shoulder ceased. She shuddered for a moment, feeling an emptiness well up inside her. The desire that had been so prevalent before, those maddening phantom sensations, were gone. Emma snuck a glance at Killian, noted a similarly confused look on his face, and decided that it was time to leave. Something was wrong.

She shouldered out of Killian's grasp and stood, ignoring the feeling of his eyes boring into her back, and picked her clothes up - what remained of them - off the ground. She glanced down at her shirt and held it, on the tip of her finger, up for his inspection. He smirked, his blue eyes dancing wickedly in the candle light. Emma cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. He sighed and stood, making his way to the armoire in the corner of the room. Emma's eyes trailed down the length of his bare body, closing them abruptly when she realized what she was doing. He rummaged through the armoire for a moment, pausing to look over her form, before settling on whatever it was he deemed appropriate. Emma continued to dress, pulling her underwear and jeans back over her hips and buttoning them. She slid her bra over her head, adjusting the cups appropriately.

Emma glanced up to see if Killian had found her something to wear and jumped in surprise; he stood in front of her, one of his shirts in his hands, appraising her. She gave him an exasperated look and reached for the shirt; he pulled it just out of her reach. She frowned. "Hook," She began, moving forward to grasp the shirt that he was teasing just out of reach.

He let her catch the shirt, her fingers tugging it towards her, and gave it one sharp tug towards him. She stumbled forward into his arms, felt them slide and lock around her back. "Killian," He corrected her as he kissed her with that same dizzying passion that had started the entire affair; Emma relaxed into this kiss, her hands sliding up his chest and around the back of his neck to angle him closer. He pressed her more tightly against him, deepening the kiss. Emma could feel him turning her, guiding her in the direction of the bed; she stopped, refusing to move. He let out a disgruntled whine, and Emma couldn't fight back the small smile.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything,"

Emma spun towards the door, her jaw dropping; a blush crept up her neck and she felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. Charming stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, his expression borderline murderous.

* * *

**A/n: Hope you enjoyed, and sorry for the long wait! Computer troubles arose, ensued, were overcome...after I rewrote the chapter. Please leave a note letting me know what you think! thanks for reading!**


	8. Chapter 7: Unknown

**A/n: Hey everyone! I'm so sorry for how long this has taken to get out. A lot of stuff happened in reality that I had difficulty dealing with and then everything just kind of…piled up in a very bad way. But I'm back! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed/alerted/favorite this story – your support means a lot. This chapter is kind of a filler chapter, I admit, but big things are coming. Very, very big things. **

**Please review, and let me know your thoughts on what's going on with Emma.**

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**Disclaimer: ****Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

Emma felt a warm rush of embarrassment creep through her body, rising from her navel to her neck. She yanked the shirt away from Hook and slid it over her, looking anywhere and everywhere apart from the naked man beside her, and her father leaning on the frame of the door. It was every girl's worst nightmare, and one Emma thought she had been spared. Apparently God had a sense of humor.

"What are you doing here?" Emma asked, embarrassment diminishing as possible reasons for Charming's appearance. "Is something wrong with Henry?" A note of concern crept into her voice, a frown marring her features.

Charming diverted his attention and set aside his anger, for the moment, to reassure Emma that nothing had befallen her son. "Henry's fine – but Regina may not be. Cora showed up at their house, trying to make amends. Regina wasn't receptive; Henry got out of there before things got too hairy, but Regina sent him to get help. We're all meeting outside of the pawnshop before we head over."

Emma felt the awkward air return, Killian remaining silent throughout the conversation. Emma moved towards the door quickly, not looking back at her lover, whose eyes she could feel boring into her back. She passed Charming without comment, pausing once in the hallway.

"I'll be right up," Charming told her, not moving from his place. "I just need to have a word with the Captain. Go ahead and get in the car."

Emma hesitated, unsure of what she was feeling at the moment. Part of her wanted to rail at him for treating her like an teenage girl who'd just been caught with her boyfriend's hand up her shirt, but another part almost felt… happy, even comforted, by his treatment of her. Though she was still adjusting to this whole parent concept, she acknowledged that having Charming be protective of her was not completely a bad feeling. She met Killian's eyes for a moment before returning to the deck; if a message passed between them, Emma wasn't able to decipher it.

"Your majesty," Killian began, smirking. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Killian pulled his pants from the floor sliding them over his hips and buttoning them up, buckling his belt.

"We need to have a talk, I think," Charming replied nonchalantly, not reacting to Killian's subtle jab.

"Oh dear, is this the part where you, Emma's father, threaten me within an inch of my life if I ever dare break her heart? Because, I assure you, I've already heard every variation of that particular speech – and the consequences haven't stuck."

Charming shook his head, a wry laugh escaping him. He rubbed his jaw for a moment before shaking his head. "No. Emma is my daughter, but she's also a grown woman – who she chooses to partner with is her business." He paused, carefully wording what he was about to say next. "Regardless of whatever happens between you, I will be there to support Emma. If you hurt her, or break her heart, there would be nothing left for me to do except comfort her and help pick up the pieces."

"I fail to see where this is going," Killian replied, pulling a shirt over his head and sitting down to pull on his boots. He was uncomfortable with the conversation. An angry, protective father was not a character that Killian Jones was unused to dealing with. Knowing what he did of the Prince, what he had heard of his temper, made Killian wary to the direction of their discourse. The Prince was too calm.

"What are your intentions toward Emma?" Charming asked bluntly, all eloquent words disappearing when it became clear that Killian wasn't taking the hint.

"I have none," Killian replied truthfully, equally blunt. "I got what I wanted."

Charming nodded, fighting the rage that threatened to overwhelm him with Killian's cavalier attitude towards his daughter. "Good," He replied, nodding, before turning to leave.

"What?" Killian asked, frowning. That was not the response he had been expecting.

"Good," Charming repeated, striding down the hallway.

"What do you mean 'good'? Most fathers would be furious,"

"I am not most fathers. Most fathers, at least the ones that are a part of their family, get to enjoy watching their children grow up. My child isn't a child anymore." He explained, waiting for Killian to take the bait. Charming was much more clever than he was given credit for being. He hid it well underneath a mask of bravery and brawn, but every so often, when the right occasion presented itself, his cleverness made its presence known.

"Even so, I would think you would still be outraged at my casual relationship with your daughter,"

"No, Captain, not at all – in fact, it's a comfort."

"A comfort?" Killian parroted, confused.

"Anything more than a casual relationship with you would end in disaster, not only for Emma but Henry as well. You're a pirate with a single shred of honor that is reserved for the payment of debts and the execution of revenges. You have no knowledge of this world, or how to live in it, and to Emma this world is home. You're hell bent on revenge against Rumpelstiltskin, and _anyone_ who sides with you will go down with you when all is said and done. Simply put, you're a danger to her and everything she cares about. And even were all of that not true," He paused to let his words sink in. "You don't deserve her."

Charming left, not bothering to wait to hear the Captain's indignant reply. He had come to get Emma, and remind Killian exactly who it was that he was dealing with, but plans had changed with the scene he stumbled upon. He had been prepared to deal with the likelihood that Emma had slept with the pirate – what he was not prepared to deal with was the tenderness and intimacy between them. They barely knew each other, and according to Killian their relationship was casual. But what Charming saw in those few moments before her made his presence known, was anything but casual. Luckily, thinking on his feet was something he excelled at, and he adapted. Based on Killian's reactions to his speech, the pirate would now either give Emma up entirely and save them both the heartbreak, or he would make himself worthy of her. Either outcome suited Charming just fine, though he admitted that if it was the latter, Snow would not be pleased.

* * *

Henry flew into Emma's arms the moment they arrived, burying his head in the crook of her neck; Emma was immediately grateful that they had stopped at the loft before heading over. She changed her clothes and applied concealer to the hickey Hook had given her; dealing with the consequences of their tryst was not something she could do with right now. She drove her own car, feeling the urge to put some space between her and David. David had said nothing of Hook on their ride home and Emma was too embarrassed to bring it up. She had gone there to chastise and arrest him, and wound up sleeping with him. What kind of person did that make her? She shook herself from her thoughts, focusing on consoling the child in her arms.

"Hey, kid, it's going to be okay." Emma soothed him, rubbing his back gently. "Regina's a strong woman; I'm sure she's fine."

"Everyone ready?" Gold asked calmly, surveying the group coolly.

Emma nodded, purposefully avoiding his gaze. The man knew too much, always knew too much, and this was something she didn't want him knowing. She was sure that he hadn't forgotten the debt she owed him. Whatever she had with Hook had the potential to be used as leverage, and she was not about to let that happen. Ruby and Henry sat in the backseat of her car, the brunette comforting the boy as Emma drove and tried to think of anything – everything – except the pirate she had just slept with. She felt the guilt eat away at her as she recalled that Henry had been left alone. Snow had been busy looking after her husband, and Emma had been busy, well, getting busy. She felt ashamed that she had let the man distract her so. He had done it on purpose to get her attention – and it had worked! The strange sensations were gone, but there was still the magic glow to deal with.

"Oh my god," Henry whispered, his voice catching in his throat.

Emma frowned, her reverie broken, and paled when she realized what Henry saw. The house was destroyed, the wreckage and remains extending to the street. She slammed on her breaks and got out of the car, telling Ruby to keep Henry back. She tried to ignore the sound of Henry's distress, his hoarse cries of "Mother!" echoing throughout the neighborhood. She blocked out his voice, stepping into the role of a Sheriff. She scanned the area carefully, looking for any sign that Cora might be lingering. Seeing none, she began stumbling through the wreckage, lifting up pieces of lumber and siding.

Her father joined her shortly thereafter, her mother staying behind to comfort Henry. Ruby joined them, sniffing the air delicately. "Over here!" She shouted, bounding through the wreckage. Before Emma or Charming reached her, she was already tossing pieces of plaster and wood over her head. Emma evaded the flying wreckage and joined Ruby in digging. Regina was in poor shape, but she was alive.

"Gold!" She called over her shoulder, noting with quiet dread the black veins webbed across Regina's throat.

Charming slipped between Ruby and Emma, lifting Regina up and carrying her to the waiting stretcher. Whale began his examination, taking her pulse and searching her for any signs of external injury. Gold hobbled over to her, his dark eyes scanning Regina carefully. He tentatively touched the black veins at her throat, his expression darkening. He stepped back and allowed Whale to pull her into the ambulance. He turned to Emma, and she noted the grave expression and the tightness of his jaw with increasing dread. "She has been cursed with black magic,"

"But you can fix it, right? You're Rumpelstiltskin!" Henry's voice chirped from the sidelines, his eyes lined with unshed tears. Gold looked at the boy, and for the briefest second Baelfire stared back at him. He swallowed and took a deep breath.

"I'm going to do what I can," He replied, his voice firm. But Emma could see something else in his eyes, something Henry either didn't see or didn't want to see: Uncertainty.

Charming laid a hand on Henry's shoulder, and the boy turned into his embrace, burying his head into the flannel shirt. "How about we head to the hospital and wait for Doctor Whale to finish his examination?" Henry nodded, still not removing his arms from his grandfather's waist. Ruby went with them, asking to catch a ride back to Granny's.

Emma waited until they drove away before she returned to her conversation with Gold. Mary-Margaret came to stand beside her, her arms crossed; Emma felt her face flush with heat, knowing that David hadn't had time to tell her mother how he had found them lip-locked and naked.

"What's wrong with Regina?" Emma asked bluntly, trying to avoid her mother's curious gaze; her suspicious behavior must not have gone unnoticed.

Gold took a breath, pausing as though figuring out how to word his response for the magically-inept. "Regina has been cursed with dark magic, but it is not magic I am familiar with. I'll need to look into it more closely before I can determine how to treat her."

"But there's more," Emma said, frowning as she looked at him. "You already have an idea what it is, don't you?" She dug a little deeper, sensing the half-truth he had told her.

"I just told you, I'm not familiar with the magic she is cursed with," Gold replied in kind, his tone darkening.

Emma stared into his eyes, debating on whether or not to press further. "Look, you know that I can see lies and half-truths. I _know_ you're not telling me everything, but if you want to be more sure first that's fine." She relented, making certain he knew that she was expecting the full truth at some point. He nodded, her message read loud and clear.

"Well, shall we?" Mary-Margaret asked, gesturing to the vehicles. The group broke up and climbed into their cars.

As they sat next to each other, Emma became acutely aware of the awkward silence.

"So, are we going to talk about Hook?" Mary-Margaret was the first to break the silence, deciding that she would be waiting for a very long time for Emma to offer the information.

"What's there to talk about?" Emma replied curtly, trying to avoid the conversation altogether.

Mary-Margaret sighed and leaned over Emma from the passenger seat to pull the key out of the ignition.

"Hey!" Emma cried out, trying to snatch the key back.

Mary-Margaret smiled back, folding her hands in her lap. "That's a…pretty sizable hickey, Emma,"

Emma first felt her face flush with heat and then felt the color drain from her face; had Henry seen it?

"He was a little busy focusing on other things," Mary-Margaret supplied, and Emma realized that she had spoken her fear aloud.

Emma swallowed her fear and took a deep breath, reminding herself that Mary-Margaret was her friend before she was her mother, and let the story jumble out. She told her about how Killian accosted her in her hotel room, his teasing in the diner, and their affair on his ship. She told her about the odd phantom touches she was experiencing that drove them together, and how the lack of those touches nearly drove them apart. She told her about his confession, that since he had come to Storybrooke he had been unable to focus on his revenge, that he too had been driven to distraction.

"I was glowing afterwards, literally glowing, and then I just felt this utter sense of wrongness well up inside me." Emma finished, frustrated that she wasn't able to accurately convey what she had felt.

Mary-Margaret listened without comment, compassion radiating from her eyes. She hummed thoughtfully and rubbed soothing circles on the back of Emma's hand. "Regret is normal, Emma, and sometimes it happens."

Emma shook her head violently. "No, you don't understand. I don't… _regret_ sleeping with him. Not at all. It's been a long time, a very long time, since I have been that intimate with anyone. Even a one-night stand. It felt good, even for just a moment, to be vulnerable again. The wrongness I felt didn't come from regret. It came from the sense that…" She trailed off, unsure how to proceed. "It came from the sense that I wasn't in control of my own actions, like something was pushing me to be intimate with him."

"And despite that being true, despite the sense of wrongness you felt afterwards, you don't regret it?" Mary-Margaret asked calmly, handing Emma back her car keys.

Emma turned the car back on, letting the question sink in. "No," She breathed the word out, the full realization hitting her. "No, I don't."

* * *

**A/N: Any theories? Comments about Charming? Sorry about the filler-ness of this chapter. This chapter had a lot of emotional/personal stuff, the next one begins the action/adventure.**


	9. Chapter 8: What's Right

**A/n: A HUGE, GINORMOUS COOKIE TO EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU WONDERFUL, BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE WHO REVIEWED. I ADORE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU. **

**So, this is the longest chapter yet - rounded out at about 4,300 words. Still looking for a Beta, if anyone's interested! There's not a lot of CS in this particular chapter, more build-up and character development (my plot is running away from me again... .x)**

**Anyway, please review, and let me know what you think!**

**A few of you were pretty close in your guesses to what's going on with Emma, but none of you _quite_ managed to get the whole picture. I guess you'll just have to wait and see!**

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**Disclaimer: ****Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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Gold hobbled his way up the driveway, looking at the mansion with disdain. The home was clearly designed in Regina's taste, and Gold could imagine how much his former apprentice hated it. He noted the pink bicycle propped up against the garage, the partially washed away chalk drawing on the sidewalk; clearly Jefferson had his daughter back. He rapped on the door when he reached it, hearing a gale of a child's laughter from the other side of the door. Jefferson opened the door, and the beaming smile faltered when his eyes rested on Gold.

"We need to talk," Gold murmured, keeping his voice low to prevent Grace from hearing.

Jefferson pressed his lips together in a thin line, hatred radiating from his eyes. "The last time we 'talked', my wife…" He trailed off as his voice began to rise and stopped himself from shouting to keep Paige from hearing. "My family was destroyed. I'm not listening to _anything_ you have to say," He spat, pulling back from the doorway, motion to close the door.

"Cora is here, in Storybrooke," Gold hissed, gritting his teeth at the hatter's stubborn refusal to listen.

Jefferson froze, the color draining from his face. He glanced behind him, making sure that Grace was still absorbed with the movie they had been watching. He stepped outside, shutting the door behind him.

"How?" He bit out, feeling the rage coil up inside him.

"Magic bean, revived by the waters of Lake Nostos,"

"Hook," Jefferson supplied, fitting in a piece of the puzzle.

"Yes," Gold acknowledged. "Cora's already making her move. She attempted to reconcile with Regina,"

"Great. Two powerful , black magic sorceresses are on the loose. That's… perfect," Jefferson groaned and sat down on the step, rubbing his forehead.

"Not quite. Regina has been attempting to… redeem herself, for Henry, and refused Cora's attempt at reconciliation."

Jefferson looked up sharply. "And?"

"Regina is very badly wounded. Cora has cursed her with magic I am not familiar with, though I have an idea of what it might be."

"Good. Let her suffer in a curse, the way the rest of us have had to do." Jefferson snarled, unable to forgive Regina for what she did to separate him from his daughter.

Gold shook his head. "This is no time for petty vengeance, Jefferson. Cora is out for blood, anyone and everyone is a target. We _need_ Regina."

Jefferson hung his head, sighing. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve some of the tension he could feel building, and looked up at Gold. "What's wrong with her?"

"Black veins spread across her throat, like a spider's web."

"No! It's not possible!" Jefferson shouted, standing abruptly. "It's not possible! Alice – " He ran his fingers through his hair, the heartbreak evident on his face. Jefferson tried to ignore the constricting feeling in his throat, brushed the tears out of the corners of his eyes.

"I know," Gold replied, a note of compassion lining his tone. "I need you to come to the hospital, to confirm or deny it. Either way, I have to know."

"Papa?" Grace, hearing her mother's name shouted, exited the house to investigate.

Jefferson composed himself, slowly turning to face his daughter. "Regina was in an accident; she's in the hospital. I need to have a look."

"Why?" She asked, frowning. "What does it have to do with mother?"

Jefferson felt his throat constrict again, and cleared it in an attempt to speak. "Regina's accident involved Wonderland magic, magic that your – your mother, once dealt with. We're going to go to the hospital so I can take a look. And, I'm sure Henry could probably use a friend right now,"

Grace nodded, her perceptive eyes digging into Gold with suspicion and curiosity. "I'll get my coat."

* * *

Killian poured himself another glass of wine and sat on his bed, taking in the state of his quarters. The papers that had been swept from his desk in their passion were still on the floor. He should clean up, the Captain in him urging him to do so, but Killian was not in a rush. He could see her sitting there, on his desk, her legs parted and her eyes shimmering with lust and confusion before she pulled him into her embrace. He could still faintly smell her perfume, could still recall her strong thighs tightening around him. These were not the phantom sensations he had experienced before, ghostlike and teasing. No, these were more like sparks of fire, a trail of blazing heat that only memory could provide.

He had felt something after they had sated themselves, an emptiness that he knew Emma had felt too. Her instinct to fight or flee had taken over, and Killian knew that was the reason why she had been so keen to leave. She had a propensity to flee. But his instincts had risen up too, and his told him to fight. He delayed her departure, attempting to tease her into remaining with him. He couldn't process the near-desperate feeling to make her stay. He'd never felt such a thing before, not even with Milah. And then her father had showed up. He could feel Emma's embarrassment, expected her father's fury. He did not expect the speech he had received.

He did not expect the Prince to be so calm, or rational. Above all, Killian hadn't expected him to be right. He snorted then, thinking of the Prince's final words. _'You don't deserve her,'_ he had said. And he was right. He was a rake, seducing a vulnerable woman with an equally vulnerable child, with no intention of turning their tryst into anything more than what it was – a tryst. There was no need to further their connection. He'd gotten what he wanted from her, slaked the lust that had been pushed away for so many years.

Except for the way she looked at him, those blue-green eyes boring into his soul and seeing every ugly inch of him, and the way she didn't look away. She saw past the rake and the charming pirate, and saw _him_, bruised and scarred by love and love lost. And she smiled at him.

A knock on the door heralded a visitor, jarring Killian from his thoughts.

"Come in," He called out, standing.

Cora stumbled into the room, shutting the door behind her quickly. Killian's eyebrows rose as he took in her state, her clothes torn and stained by dirt, even singed in some places. A darkening purple bruise forming on her left cheek, and a bloody gash on her brow, told Killian that things clearly did not go according to her plans.

"What the hell happened to you?" He asked, not quite believing what he was seeing.

"My daughter… has grown claws in my absence, and a temper," Cora replied, gritting her teeth as she hobbled to the loveseat.

"I see," Killian responded, not sure why she was on his ship.

"I need something from you," Cora told him bluntly, her voice tired.

"I thought we agreed that our alliance ended upon our arrival in Storybrooke," Killian said, reminding her of their agreement.

"Yes, well, I wasn't exactly planning on my daughter attacking me. There was a moment where I was sure she was going to kill me, and in that moment I… reacted too hastily. My magic got away from me in an effort to defend myself, and now the only cure for my daughter's curse lies out of my reach."

"So, you want me to obtain it, this cure? In return for what?"

"Rumpelstiltskin cannot be killed except by his dagger, the dagger with his name on it. If you bring me my daughter's cure, I will get you the dagger."

"Where is this cure?" Killian asked, sure he was not going to like the answer.

"Wonderland."

"You must be joking. I have only just arrived in Storybrooke, after three-hundred years, to achieve my revenge and now you want me to leave to another dimension, " Killian snarled, feeling the rage coil within him. This was a trick, it had to be.

"Without the dagger, you have no hope of obtaining your revenge, and you can't get the dagger without magical aid. Your list of allies with magic is very, very short, Captain," Cora reminded him coldly, relaxing on the sofa.

Killian's fists clenched subconsciously. He didn't like this. Something was off, he could tell, something Cora wasn't telling him, but she was right, too. She was his only magically inclined ally, and he didn't even know where to begin looking for the dagger let alone obtaining it.

"What is this cure, exactly?"

* * *

Henry sat in the hospital waiting room, his knees drawn up to his chest. Charming had gone to get a cup of coffee and dinner from Granny's, leaving Henry in Grumpy's care. Henry liked the dwarf well enough, but he wasn't much of a comfort. Emma and Mary-Margaret exited the elevator, ushering over to sit on either side of him. He instantly curled into Emma's side, slipping his arms around her neck; she rubbed his back soothingly, and whispered comforting words in his ear. Snow and Grumpy stood and gave them some space, speaking quietly to one another. Regina had done many terrible things, but for all that she had done in the past, she had adopted Henry, loved him and took care of him when Emma couldn't. She was his mother too. Grumpy left, giving Snow a half hug and Emma a comforting smile.

She looked up when she heard the familiar rasp of Gold's voice, was slightly startled to see Jefferson standing beside him.

"Henry?" Grace stepped out from behind her father, uncertain on whether she should intrude.

Henry lifted his head and offered her a watery smile. He slipped out of Emma's arms and accepted a hug from the girl, trying to fight back tears.

Emma stood and pulled out her wallet, plucking out a few ones. "I need to talk to these two, and Dr. Whale, for a little while. Why don't you two go raid the vending machines?" Emma offered the money, a light smile on her face.

Henry accepted the money and thanked her before he and Grace took off running in the direction of the vending machines.

"Well, shall we?" Gold asked, using his cane to gesture towards the hallway that contained Regina's room.

Snow glared at Jefferson, her memories of being held captive all too present in her mind. She said nothing, merely continued to express her anger silently, before following Gold to Regina's room. Emma eyed him for a moment before shaking her head and following her mother, deciding that it wouldn't be worth it to pick a fight with him.

"I'm sorry,"

Emma paused, turning to face him. "What?"

Jefferson swallowed. "I'm sorry, for kidnapping you and… everything, but I don't regret it. I just hope you understand, and I think you do, about why I did what I did."

Emma sighed, wishing that she could have avoided this conversation altogether. "I do. I know that you just wanted your kid back, and believe me when I say that I get that more than anything, but… what you did wasn't right, Jefferson. Think about what Grace would think of you if she found out, the example you'd be setting for her. I'm not exactly a paragon of morality; more than once, Henry has been the one to steer me in the right direction. I was going to kidnap him, Jefferson. Take him and leave, because I was afraid that I would lose him to Regina forever."

Emma paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. "And it wasn't right. I, as a parent, can't afford to be setting that kind of example for him, and neither can you, for Grace. We have to do what's right, no matter how painful it might be, or how afraid we are." Emma finished, beginning to continue the journey to Regina's room. "That being said, I forgive you,"

Jefferson followed her, saying nothing in response. He resisted the urge to comment on how morally grey she herself was, knowing that she was right. He'd been a poor father to Grace in the past, unable to move on and do what needed to be done after his wife passed away. If he had been more alert, as he should have been, Regina would never have been able to trick him in such a way.

"What is that? I've never seen anything like it," Snow said, her voice drifting out the open door.

Jefferson hesitated to enter the room, begging whatever deity existed to not let it be what Gold suspected. Gold was rarely wrong. Steeling himself, he put his foot inside the door and slowly approached Regina's bedside. Jefferson looked up after a moment, his eyes fluttering shut as his heart sunk to new depths. He didn't think it would hurt so much after so long.

"Jabberwock poison," He said, his voice hoarse from barely contained anger and held back tears. "And it shouldn't be possible."

"Why shouldn't it be possible?" Emma asked, confused.

"Because my wife killed the damned creature, and died in the process."

Emma glanced down, wanting to offer some sort of comfort to the man, but not sure what to say. She didn't think an apology would cut it. "Okay, but couldn't they have just collected the poison before the creature died?"

Gold shook his head. "No, once a Jabberwock is killed, all remnants the best dies with it – any poison left behind disappears."

"I would love to know where Cora got her hands on it," Jefferson growled, running a hand through is hair.

"Why did your wife go after the Jabberwock in the first place?" Snow asked gently, trying to complete the picture.

Jefferson swallowed the visible lump in his throat. "Grace was a year old. My wife and I scarcely had any time to ourselves and we decided to take a vacation of sorts. We met in Wonderland, initially, and she wanted to go back and visit," He smiled at the memory, thinking about how much she loved that place. "Alice always did love that place,"

"Wait, Alice?" Emma asked, her mouth popping open. "Alice as in _the_ Alice?"

Jefferson laughed; he hadn't heard that in a long, long time. "Yeah," He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. "The Wonderland we returned to was not the Wonderland we had left. It was… corrupted, for lack of a better word. The Queen of Hearts, though crazy as the day is long, and cruel, had always kept the kingdom afloat, but there was little she could when Wonderland itself was trying to overthrow her."

"Wonderland… You mean the people?" Emma asked, frowning.

"No," He rasped, swallowing. "Wonderland was, is, very special. History says that the lands –all the lands – were once connected. The Enchanted Forest, Neverland, Wonderland, this world, and countless other realms were all neighbors. Magic ran rampant and was making people's lives utterly miserable – inanimate objects coming to life, people turning into animals, animals turning into people, all at random. The magic was too bountiful to be controlled so the rulers of the various kingdoms came together and decided to split the lands, reasoning that if the magic was divided among the nations it would be easier to control."

"You're talking, like, Pangaea?"

Jefferson nodded. "Exactly. And they succeeded. The lands were divided, and the magic was separated at the borders of each land. The forced separation of the magical bonds caused each land to split off into its own dimension. Now, because the magic was split, it was wounded. The inhabitants of this world let it die; magic ceased to exist here. In the Enchanted Forest, the wound was cauterized; the magic lived, but it was scarred, making it more scarce to find and more difficult to use. Wonderland, which received the lion's share of the magic, healed the wound completely and gave it a booster shot for its trouble. The surplus of magic in Wonderland, with such a small percentage of magic users, evolved into a sentient being."

"It's alive?" Snow asked, incredulous. "The entire land is… alive?"

Jefferson hummed for a moment before shaking his head. "Not exactly. It has no corporeal form, but it does have a will of its own, and a preferred gender. And she's fickle - very, very fickle. She decided she didn't like the Queen of Hearts anymore, for whatever reason, and tried to usurp her. So, she reached into the nightmares of the people of Wonderland, looked into the souls of every madman and blackguard there was, and from them created the race of the Jabberwock. There were hundreds of them terrorizing the country; no matter how many the army cut down, more would always spring up. The Jabberwocky are born from a single Jabberwock, the Queen, in a nightmare hive, and the only way to truly kill a Jabberwock is to behead it with a Vorpal blade, or kill the Queen."

"How many Vorpal blades are there?" Emma asked, feeling ill at ease.

"One," Jefferson said, sighing. "When Alice and I returned to Wonderland, we were set upon by the Queen's guard. The Vorpal blade has a catch, you see, and can only be wielded by a person pure of heart. The Caterpillar, the wise and omnipotent advisor to the Queen, told her that Alice was the one destined to be the Champion of Wonderland. And Alice _was_ pure of heart, make no mistake. All too quickly our vacation turned into a war. I begged Alice to run, to just come home with me and leave that miserable land to its fate. I told her to let Wonderland force the queen to abdicate and everything would correct itself. Between the two of us, I was always the more cowardly. She refused to abandon her friends, or the people of Wonderland, to its fate. So she took up the name Champion, and took the Vorpal blade in hand. We fought for months until every last Jabberwock was dead, all except the Queen. It was our last mission to complete, and then we could go home."

Jefferson rubbed his face, unshed tears brimming in the corners of his eyes. "Suffice it to say, the creature was destroyed, beheaded, and it took my wife with it."

"So if the Queen Jabberwock died, and everything from a Jabberwock disappears with the creature's death, where did the poison come from, and how do we cure Regina?"

Gold inspected the webbed lines at Regina's throat one more time, eyeing them critically. "The only way to cure the poison of a Jabberwock is to either kill the Jabberwock, or make a serum from its saliva."

"Spit? Jabberwock spit is the cure?" Emma could hardly believe what she was hearing.

"The enzymes of the saliva are the only thing strong enough to break down the poison," Jefferson supplied, shrugging.

"So somehow, a Jabberwock survived, and somehow we have to find a way to Wonderland to either kill it or get ahold of its spit, and then get back here to administer it to Regina." Emma summarized, her mouth twisting in irritation.

"And what if we don't get the cure?" Snow asked, voicing her question.

"Regina will die," Gold replied bluntly, a small frown crossing his features.

"Okay, so, how do we get to Wonderland?" Emma asked, preparing herself for another quest.

"Wait, Emma, I think we need to talk about this first," Snow began, cutting off any response from Jefferson or Gold.

"What is there to talk about? Regina will die if we don't get her the cure. How do we get to Wonderland?" Emma asked again, looking towards the men for an answer.

"Well, my hat is destroyed so that's not really an option," Jefferson replied, scratching the back of his head.

"I have a Looking Glass," Gold admitted after a moment.

"But…?" Emma countered, hearing the pause in his voice.

"It's a one-way mirror. You won't be able to get back through it. You'd need to find another way."

Emma hummed thoughtfully, leaning against the wall.

"Emma, please tell me you're not seriously considering this? What if you can't find a way back? We _just_ got home, and there is a psychopathic sorceress on the loose with a major vendetta against our family. If you leave, Henry will be parentless and more vulnerable to Cora than ever. She _targeted_ him, Emma, as Regina's weakness. You're the only one immune to her magic, the only one who could protect Henry well enough. Unless, of course, you planned on taking him _with_ you to a land that is _literally destroying itself_, to kill a beast that can only be killed by a sword that can only be wielded by one person."

"Henry can't come with me, and I don't see a whole group of people volunteering to go and fetch the cure. Cora had to have stretched herself pretty thin to curse Regina like that, right?" Emma asked, directing her question to Gold, who nodded. "It'll take her awhile to recover – especially if Regina fought back. And we need Regina to fight Cora. We're not magically strong enough without her. Besides, we can't just let her die."

"Well, maybe we should just let her die," Snow snapped, crossing her arms defensively. "She's ruined the lives of every single person in this town, has tried to keep you away from Henry on more than one occasion, and murdered countless numbers of people. Or, have you already forgotten about Graham?"

* * *

"_Well, maybe we should just let her die," Snow snapped, crossing her arms defensively. "She's ruined the lives of every single person in this town, has tried to keep you away from Henry on more than one occasion, and murdered countless numbers of people. Or, have you already forgotten about Graham?"_

Henry bit back a gasp and backed away from the partially open hospital door, nearly tripping over Grace in his hurry to escape. He wiped away the tears that tracked down his face and punched the down button on the elevator, his breathing heavy and rough.

"Henry! Calm down, it's going to be okay," Grace tried to console him, following him into the elevator.

"Okay? How is _any_ of this going to be okay? Snow White, the one person who I thought I could count on to be _good_, my grandmother, is considering letting my mom die!" Henry snapped, furious and hurt. "I won't let it happen. I can't! And if Emma goes, what if she can't get back? I can't lose her, not again," He admitted, choking back a sob.

Grace pulled Henry into a hug, releasing him only when the elevator door dinged open and they exited the hospital. She swallowed for a moment, chewing on the inside of her lip. "Maybe you wouldn't have to,"

Henry looked up at her, his ears catching the hitch in her voice. "What do you mean?"

"A Looking Glass and a magic hat aren't the only ways to get to Wonderland," Grace whispered, glancing around uneasily.

"There's another way? To get there, and back?" He asked, his tone hopeful.

Grace nodded. "Down a rabbit hole – more specifically, down the hole of a wonder-rabbit. There's one in the park."

Henry paused for a moment, looking at Grace with hardened eyes. "Okay. Let's get going,"

"What?" Grace asked, alarmed. "Henry, I only meant that we should tell them there's another way to get there and get home, not go there ourselves! It's too dangerous!"

"Grace, my mom is lying in a hospital bed _dying_ while the adults in charge discuss whether or not she's even _worth saving_ and every minute they argue, is a minute she dies a little more. I can't stand by and do nothing!" Henry reasoned, pleading for her to agree. Seeing the doubt on her face, Henry pressed forward, ignoring the twinge of immense guilt welling up inside him. "Besides, you're the daughter of Alice and the Mad Hatter, the daughter of the champion of Wonderland. You're mother loved that world, Grace, loved it enough to fight for it. So long as a Jabberwock lives, my mother dies and so do your mother's friends."

Grace turned away from him, pacing the sidewalk. She could barely remember her mother. Most of what she knew about her came from stories, and sometimes Grace was grateful for it. She wasn't sure what she would have done if she could remember her mother, and then lost her – like Henry was about to lose his. She felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, or a really tall building, only inches away from falling over the edge. She found she rather liked the feeling.

She turned back to face Henry, chewing on her lower lip. "We're going to need provisions."

Henry grinned in reply.


	10. Chapter 9: Selfishness

**A/n: A huge thanks to everyone who reviewed! Most common comments made were different variations of: "Uh-oh." & "Not good."**  
**I got a pretty good chuckle out of it, not going to lie. Anyway, read on!**

* * *

**Disclaimer:Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

"No, I haven't forgotten Graham. You know I haven't. But one wrong turn doesn't deserve another," Emma admonished, looking at Snow wide eyed. "You can't seriously tell me that you want to just let Regina die,"

Snow sighed, looking at Regina's unconscious form in the bed. "No, well maybe," She replied, shaking her head. "It's just… Emma, I have been fighting for so long… over half my life, now, and mostly against Regina. And I'm _tired_ of fighting. And as terrible as it sounds, I'm _tired_ of being the better person. A part of me, a very small, but very loud, part of me thinks that maybe if Regina dies… You're risking your life for the woman who refused you your son, for the woman who tried to prevent your very birth. You risked your life to get back here to Henry – are you really going to give up what you fought so hard for?" She asked, her tone pleading.

"I'm not giving up anything!" Emma exclaimed, looking at Snow as though she was seeing her for the first time. "I'm trying to do what's right!"

"Yeah. Look how far that's gotten us," Snow replied bitterly. "We got trapped in a different world with no memory for twenty-eight years while you were thrown into the foster system. So many good people have died in defense of what's right… The terror she causes never ends. And this, _this_ will be her crowning glory Emma. You go looking for a cure, and you'll never find your way back, and then Regina will have gotten what she wanted all along – to be Henry's only mother."

"You make it sound like she planned this! She's _dying_ Mary-Margaret," Emma pleaded with her to see reason.

"Is she? Cora wants her daughter back – she can't have her if she's dead. No, this is a trick," Snow murmured, her voice growing strong with certainty.

"Not to interrupt, but we are running short on time. You need to make a decision, Emma," Jefferson said, looking at her compassionately.

Emma looked at Snow, who looked back defiantly. She shook her head and turned to Jefferson. "Pack up. We leave for Wonderland in an hour."

Snow closed her eyes briefly, a few tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. She left the room, her eyes downcast, making it clear from her silence what she thought of Emma's decision. Emma swallowed but held her resolve: she knew that what she was doing was right.

"You two will meet me at my shop in an hour, then," Gold said softly, his eyes devoid of any emotion. Whatever his opinion was of Snow's new found philosophy, he didn't share it.

Jefferson and Emma took this as their cue to leave, both heading back towards the waiting room.

Gold remained behind, just for a moment. His hand ghosted lightly over her cheek, gently tracing the black webs that spread from her collarbone up her neck. He inhaled sharply and abruptly withdrew his hand, shaking his head. He'd been without magic too long, become too human since the curse. He regretted many things in his life, and this was starting to be one of them. He had corrupted Regina when she was so young, when she was vulnerable. His own blood. He would not call her his daughter – he did not raise her – but she was part of him. He had seen to that. He hobbled away slowly, looking back at her one more time; he could only think that somehow, things might have turned out differently if he had taken her from her mother as he had intended. The thought that followed, was how that may not have been any better.

* * *

Henry and Grace packed her backpack to the gills, both of them attempting to think of what they were going to need. So far, the backpack had a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, a box of matches, a first-aid kit, a notepad of paper, and pens. Henry was in the garage, looking for anything that could be useful. He rifled through drawers, careful to avoid the sharp objects, until he found what he was looking for: a Swiss army knife. His own was at home – a present from Graham, on his tenth birthday – but he couldn't go back for it. He tucked the knife into his pocket and made his way back into the house, pausing when he spotted Grace's softball bat leaning against the wall.

He stared at it, weighing the risk and if it was worth it. Wonderland would be dangerous – beyond a shadow of a doubt – and not just because of the Jabberwocks. But it was also one more thing to carry when they were meant to be traveling light. He hesitated for a moment longer, and realizing that he'd already wasted too much time, grabbed it and carried it into the house; it would have to do until he could get a sword.

"Are we really going to need that?" Grace asked him as he entered the kitchen, staring at the bat uncertainly; she shifted from left to right, concern etched into her features.

"Just in case," Henry told her cheerfully, not wanting to frighten her. Realistically, there was every chance it would have to be used. He told himself he was prepared to do whatever he need to be done to get the cure and bring it back for his mother, and to protect Grace.

"Alright, so we've got food, an umbrella, matches, first-aid kit, and… a weapon," She counted off, hesitating to name her baseball bat as weapon, before moving on. "And paper and pens. Can you think of anything else we need?" She asked, eyeing the front door nervously.

Henry shook his head. "I don't think so. There's an empty spice bottle in the side pocket," He said, showing her where he had placed it. "For the… Jabberwock spit," He said, swallowing the lump forming in his throat.

"Are you sure about this Henry?" She asked, wanting to make sure at least one of them was sure about this – she certainly wasn't. She had faith that Emma wouldn't just let Regina die, but she understood Henrys concern. It was hard to think clearly when someone you loved was in danger.

"Yes," Henry said firmly, his eyes igniting with newly refurbished fire.

Grace hesitated only a moment more before nodding, and slipped the backpack onto her shoulders. She didn't really want to go, but someone had to make sure the idiot didn't do something terribly heroic and foolish. "Then let's go, before your mom gets any worse."

* * *

Emma packed her suitcase quickly, but made sure to bring small creature comforts that had been denied to her during her first visit to the Enchanted Forest. A Toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, and a hairbrush all made the cut. She packed only one more t-shirt and some underwear, deciding to travel light. She surveyed the items in her duffle bag and thought carefully about what – if anything – else to bring.

"Emma?" Ruby called out, rapping lightly on the door; Emma jumped, not even having heard the front door open.

"Come in!" Emma invited, turning back to the task at hand. She settled on a short sleeve tank top, knowing that her black coat would serve to keep her warm if the weather turned cold.

"Snow sent me," Ruby explained as she entered, leaning against that door frame as she watched Emma pack. "She… wanted me to try and talk you out of going." She said, falling silent for a moment.

"You should have called instead; I could have saved you a trip. I'm going, Ruby. I'm not going to let Regina die – no matter what she's done – and have my son lose his mother."

Ruby held up her hands defensively. "Hey, personally, I wouldn't spit on Regina if she were on fire. She has made my life, and the lives of everyone else in this town, a living hell. I'm… done with being good just for goodness sake. But I admire that you aren't, Emma, and you have more reason that some to hate her. I know how little good it would do to talk you out of it now that you've made your mind up. It's just… you do realize that _you're_ Henry's mother right? He doesn't need Regina,"

Emma sighed, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. None of them understood, _really_ understood. She licked her lips after a moment, her mouth and throat suddenly feeling dry. She turned to Ruby and looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before turning back to her dresser. She knelt down and rifled through the bottom drawer, eventually pulling out a battered wooden box. She opened it and pulled out what she was looking for, a folded up piece of paper.

She handed it to Ruby, her eyes downcast, and sat on the edge of the bed. Ruby unfolded the piece of paper gingerly; it was falling apart from the many times it had been folded and opened.

"That," Emma explained, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Is the confirmation of adoption that I received the day the social worker took Henry out of my arms." She sighed and held out her hand to take it back from Ruby, who glanced at it one more time before passing it back to her. Emma folded it back up and slipped it into her back pocket. "I looked at that piece of paper every day for five years, to remind myself that I did the right thing. I was teen, Ruby, nowhere near ready to raise a child – not mentally, emotionally, or financially. I refused to put him in foster care, and would have taken custody of him if – at the last minute – the adoption order hadn't been approved. So, when I received this piece of paper, I was grateful – grateful that my son would have a good life, and go to someone who loved and wanted him and was able to care for him in the way that I couldn't."

Emma breathed a shaky breath and wiped the budding tears from the corners of her eyes. "But it was hard. I had to look at the piece of paper every day to remind myself that I did the right thing – and even knowing Regina, and all the terrible things that she's done, I still think I made the right decision. For as crazy as she is, for all the terrible things that she's done, she _loves_ Henry – just as much as I do. Yes, I am his mother, but so is Regina – and I'm too grateful to her to just let her die because of my selfishness. I _can't_ be selfish, Ruby, not when it affects Henry."

An image of Killian flashed in front of Emmas eyes and though her guilt grew, she remained silent. Ruby listened without comment and, when Emma was finally finished, merely nodded. She didn't agree with Emma about Reginas fate, but she could see Emmas point of view. "Alright," Ruby said at last, nodding. "Well, what are you bringing?"

Emma was grateful for the change of subject, and obligingly showed her what she was packing. Ruby approved the contents of the dufflebag, noting that Emma might consider taking more than her pistol – a sword, perhaps – and offered to keep an eye on Henry while she was gone. Emma accepted the offer and smiled in gratitude, heaving the duffle over she shoulder as she left the apartment to meet Jefferson at the pawn shop.

* * *

"So, let me see if I understand this. You want me to go to Wonderland, slay a Jabberwock and retrieve its saliva, and somehow find a way back here before your daughter dies. And, supposing I survive all of that, you will then give me Rumplestiltskins dagger," He clarified, his lip curling in distaste. This entire deal reeked of betrayal.

"Quite. And, as a show of good faith, I will even let Emma Swan live – provided she doesn't get in my way, of course," Cora said, smiling benevolently.

Hook tensed slightly at the mention of Emma, but openly appeared puzzled. "And I would care about what happens to her, why?" He asked, feigning disinterest; as it was, he'd already decided to heed her fathers warning and stay away from both the blonde and her child.

Cora laughed. "Dear Hook, do you take me for a fool?" She questioned, her tone still light but laced with venom. "Your quarters are in shambles, for one thing, and news of your… tryst is already public knowledge among the townsfolk."

"It was just a tryst, nothing more," Killian replied dismissively, shaking his head. "The lass is none of my concern."

"Isn't she?" Cora asked, her smile sharp.

It was as Cora smiled at him that Killian really became aware that there was more going on than he knew about. He frowned. "Not to my knowledge, though now I suspect there is something else I am unaware of?"

"The bracers, Hook, the ones I enchanted so that you and I could climb the beanstalk together?"

"What of them?" He asked, his eyes wandering to the bracer that was still on his wrist; he simply hadn't gotten around to taking it off yet.

"That may not have been the only thing they were enchanted to do," Cora said, her red lips spread into a wide smile.

A chill traveled instantly down his spine. "What did you do?" He asked, his voice low and serious.

"The thing is, dear Captain, I always have a contingency plan. I anticipated the possibility that you would betray me – you _are_ a pirate, after all – and took a little insurance. The bracers were also enchanted with a…well, a spell that incites physical dependency. One bracer contains and maintains the spell, while the other incites the affects. Your bracer contains the spell – the one Miss Swan has in her possession renders her susceptible to the affects," She explained simply, pulling the pins out of her hair and setting them on an end table.

"Which are?" He questioned through gritted teeth.

"Well, should Miss Swan be separated from you by a distance of one league for longer than twelve hours, she will die. It had been intended for you, to keep you from running off with the bean, but it seems fortune smiled on you and Miss Swan ended up with the cursed bracer."

By Killians reckoning it had been about three hours since Emma had left his cabin, and while the town wasn't altogether large, it was still large enough to put her life in danger. He resisted the urge

"She will also be traveling to Wonderland, as I understand it," Cora added, smoothing her skirts. "It seems she harbors some kind of guilt or sense of gratitude towards my daughter, and has decided to do the right thing and _help_ her by retrieving the cure." Cora spat mockingly, her lips pressed together in a thin line. "Work with her to retrieve the cure, or don't – just keep her out of my way. You'll receive the dagger and Miss Swans life as payment. Deal, Captain?" She asked him, crossing her ankles primly; Killian knew that there wasn't really a choice, and that the question was merely a courtesy. She would find other ways to make him dance to her tune if he didn't accept this deal.

"Of course," He said smoothly, verbally accepting the deal. He highly doubted that Cora would keep her end of the bargain, but playing along would buy him time. "Now, how am I to get there? To the best of my knowledge, there are no magic beans left to our disposal."

Cora stood and folded her hands, and gave him a curious smile. "Tell me Captain, in all your travels, have you ever heard of a Wonder-Rabbit?"

"No," He said, and gestured his arms. "I have a ship made of enchanted wood."

"Well, travel via the hole of a Wonder-Rabbit is… quite different."

"I see. And, tell me," He said, stepping closer to her. "Just how did the hole of a 'Wonder-Rabbit', which I can only presume comes from Wonderland – bloody imaginative name, that – get here in Storybrooke?" He asked, his eyes gleaming with knowledge; it was a question that didn't really need answering, but he felt that Cora needed reminding that he wasn't _just_ a pretty face.

Cora merely smiled.

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**A/n: Sorry this took so long everyone! Life has been crazy since I've been home. And I'm sorry this is so short. Another chapter should be along shortly (fingers crossed!), certainly within a week. I lost all the story notes I had for this story, so I need to take some time to re-organize the few notes (from various scraps of paper) that I have and fill in everything else. Next chapter is going to be a very, very big chapter! We get our first look at Wonderland from three different points of view, an interlude by Snow and Charming, and the meat of the story.**

**Please leave a review and let me know what you think!**


	11. Chapter 10: Wonderland

**A/n: Thanks to everyone who reviewed and who continues to put up with my shit. Here's a new chapter for you!**

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**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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Henry and Grace stood beside the swing set, peering at the small hole in the ground a few feet away. The playground was empty of children, and the only noise to be heard was the crashing of waves on the beach. The sun was setting, their hidden town in Maine in the darker end of dusk, and the chill could be felt in the air. Grace shivered slightly, her head turned yearningly towards the disappearing sun. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, soaking up the little light lingering on the horizon. She opened her eyes and felt Henry's gaze as a pressure on her shoulder.

He said nothing to her, knowing the reservations she held about what they were about to do. He held his hand out to her, wordlessly asking for her support. She could leave then and there, she supposed, and just walk home. Leave Henry to his fate. And she might have, if she thought it would have stopped him; she knew him too well to even consider that a possibility. Her hand slid into his, their fingers intertwining and tightening around each other. Their gaze returned to the rabbit hole, which to Henry's eyes appeared ordinary and hardly out of place. Grace knew better. She could see the ring of dandelions sprouting up around it, not quite in bloom but ready.

"Are you sure this is it?" Henry asked, eyeing the small hole skeptically. It looked like a normal hole to his eyes, sunken and tiny and dark. There was no shimmer, nothing even remotely magical to indicate that this was special. He felt frustration well up inside him preemptively, his skepticism taking hold. What if Grace had been wrong? What if there was no Wonder-Rabbit here, no way to Wonderland?

Grace glared at him briefly, hurt that he would think her a liar – or, worse, stupid. "Yes," She replied tersely, and crouched down. She crawled to the hole on her hands and knees, eventually lying flat against the ground. She motioned for him to do the same with a wave of her hand, and a single crooked finger. Henry obliged, feeling silly, and lay next to her.

"Hello," Grace whispered, and reached out one finger to gently stroke a partially open dandelion. Henry opened his mouth to ask her what she was doing but her right hand came up to quickly cover his mouth. He grunted and pushed her hand off, taking the clue to keep quiet.

He waited impatiently for a few seconds before hissing a quiet _"What are we waiting for?"_ in her ear. She gave him an irritated glance and looked pointedly at the dandelion again. It was as he stared, his attention finally focused whole-heartedly on the flower, that he _saw_. Slowly, very slowly, the leaves of the dandelion uncurled, and the head of the flower bloomed. Henry watched in disbelief as the flower awoke, the petals fanning and curling as though to stretch.

"Excuse me," Grace whispered politely to the Dandelion, whose head turned to face her. As it turned, Henry became aware that it did, in fact, have a face. "We need to get to Wonderland. Could we please have some of your pollen?"

The Dandelion seemed to consider the request, the leaves swaying in the breeze. "Well," And Henry was astonished to hear a tiny, matronly voice boom from the golden flower. "Since you asked so politely, I supposed it could do no harm… Only, I would ask one favor in return," It said, smiling sweetly; it made Henrys skin crawl.

"Such as?" Grace inquired in the same syrupy tone; her hand tightened around Henrys, though her expression remained impassive.

"I want memories, from each of you," The Dandelion said softly, her tone sad. "I am a flower and have none of my own – and my life is too short to make them,"

Grace inhaled sharply, her brow furrowed as her stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought. "Which memories?" She asked a little more sharply, knowing the importance of being specific.

The Dandelion peered at them closely; Henry could feel the tendrils of magic curling around him uncomfortably. She smiled widely, her mouth opening widely; the teeth were pointed and sharp, making the small flower seem menacing and wretched. "I want the memories of your mothers,"

"What?" Henry exclaimed, his eyes widening. "You can't be serious!"

"I am a flower, boy, I do not jest." The Dandelion replied coldly, her eyes peering into his coldly. "That is my price."

Graces lips pressed together in a thin line, her complexion pale and waning. Henry turned his head to her, his eyes wide and almost-panicked. "Why do we even need the pollen? Why can't we just jump?" He asked, not liking the idea at all.

Grace shook her head emphatically. "We can't," She whispered, biting the inside of her cheek. "The pollen shrinks us down to the right size to make it down the Rabbit Hole without alerting the rabbit, if it's in there. If we just… jump, the Rabbit will punish us for trespassing."

"So?" He asked, confused, not understanding why that was a problem. It was just a bunny - what was it going to do? Twitch at them?

"A Wonder-Rabbit isn't just a… rabbit, Henry. It's a sentry, a guard, of the portals to Wonderland. The entire species is devoted to the service of Wonderland – and that includes keeping intruders out. The holes, magical or not, are large enough to accommodate a human – and its not because they were trying to be considerate to humans. If it catches us, it will kill us."

Henry bit his lip in frustration, felt his resolve waver for a moment. "Which memories of our mothers?" He asked, clarifying.

"All of them," The Dandelion replied airily. "My life is short, child. Barely a summer here and I wither and die. I would like to have memories to while away my hours,"

Henry swallowed with some difficulty. If they didn't do this, his mother was going to die. They couldn't just jump in, and they didn't have time to find an alternative. He couldn't give up his memories of Regina – he'd forget why he was in Wonderland in the first place – which meant he would have to give up his memories of Emma. The lump in his throat grew and he felt a tremor travel down his spine. No, Emma would find a way to get his memories back. There was always a way. But his mother was going to die if he didn't do something.

"Alright," He said at last, nodding. "I agree."

"What?" Grace snapped, her eyes wide and panicked. "Henry, no! Your memories… you can't ever get them back! A Flower of Wonderland doesn't just cast a spell - there _is no reversing it_," She hissed, shaking her head emphatically. "If you give up your memories, they will be _gone_!"

"I can't just let my mom die, Grace. I can't." He repeated, his voice cracking. "She was put in this position because of me –_ me,_ Grace. She stood up to Cora and now she's dying. I – I can make new memories with Emma," He said firmly, not quite believing what he was saying.

"Henry, _no_," Grace said firmly, glaring at the flower.

"The girl's right, lad," Henry and Grace craned their necks over their shoulders to see Killian standing by the swing set, disapproval etched into his face. "You're smarter than this. Don't be rash – only fools are rash,"

Henry listened carefully, remembering the Captain with fondness, but noticed Killian edging ever closer to them. "No! There's no time! Grace?" He questioned, pressuring the girl to make a decision.

Grace felt a moment of conflict and confusion, felt pained at the thought of losing the few precious memories she had of her mother, but felt more fearful of Henry facing Wonderland on his own. "Do it," She said aloud to the Dandelion, bracing herself.

"As you wish," The Dandelion replied, and blew pollen in their faces.

"No!" Hook roared, lunging forward to yank the children back; but it was too late. The children sneezed and shrunk immediately, feeling dizzy and nauseous as a side effect of the pollen. Henry stood and pulled Grace up with him, the two holding hands tightly to keep each other upright. Killians knees hit the ground roughly, and the childrens' world tilted on its axis as the ground shook beneath them. Grace stumbled backwards and felt her foot slide out from under her, and she turned her body to brace herself against the impact – but only air was felt beneath her hand. Henry, who kept a tight grasp on her wrist, was tugged down the hole after her and didn't even have the presence of mind to scream before the darkness consumed him.

Killian stood and peered down the hole. "Brave, foolish child," He hissed, irritated.

"Well now, you can't blame him," The Dandelion said, and grew in a cloud of purple smoke, leaving Cora standing in its wake. "He comes by it honestly," She said waspishly, brushing herself off.

"_Why?"_ He all but snarled at her, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.

"Be careful, Captain," She warned, looking pointedly at where his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "The child is none of your concern. Just do your part in obtaining my daughter's cure, and you will have your dagger," She reminded him of their deal, and moved away from the rabbit hole.

Killian offered her one final glare before unsheathing his sword and taking a single, bounding leap over the Rabbit hole, which resized itself accordingly and closed itself on top of him as he began his descent.

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Emma left her apartment and walked down the street at a brisk pace, her duffel bag strapped to her back. She'd hoped that she'd be able to see Henry before she left but he had disappeared from the hospital before she could say goodbye. Her heart panged sadly at the thought of being separated from him again so soon after she'd come home, but she hoped that he understood. She'd made her trek to Gold's Pawn Shop and noted that Gold was already there, waiting, but Jefferson was not.

"Ms. Swan," He greeted her softly, his tone neutral as ever.

"Mr. Gold," She replied, fidgeting slightly; she felt uncomfortable in his presence, knowing that he had orchestrated her birth and subsequent abandonment.

"Are you prepared for this?" He questioned, his tone growing more serious.

Emma hesitated in her response, still unsure if he was to be considered an enemy or an ally – she didn't think he would ever be a friend. She decided to be honest, and forewent the show of bravado. "If you mean to ask me if I'm prepared to battle a Jabberwock – which, from what I understand, is a very nasty dragon – and willingly and knowingly strand myself in another world, then the answer is no. I'm not prepared. But I'm willing, and at this point that's all that matters,"

He chuckled and the look he gave her was one of muted amusement. He shook his head, and the next look he gave her was one of admiration.

"Ready?"

Emma turned, half-startled, by the sound of Jefferson's voice; she hadn't even heard him approach. "Yeah," She replied, offering him a half-hearted smile.

He returned it with a weak smile, and looked distinctly troubled by what they were about to do.

"Are you?" She asked, concerned.

He laughed a dark, hollow sort of chuckle. "No," He replied quite honestly, and Emma could see a mix of rage and sorrow in his eyes. "But you need a guide, and you'll get no better guide than I," He pulled his gloves a little more firmly on his hand. "So let's go, before I change my mind,"

Gold nodded and led the two of them inside. He had made room, it seemed, for the mirror. It was large and somewhat narrow, and were it not for the hypersensitive tingle she felt when she looked at it, she would have assumed it to be a normal mirror.

"All you have to do is run right through it," Gold instructed softly from behind them, his tone resigned. "But before you do, here," He handed Emma a small hand mirror. "This is made from a broken piece of looking glass. It won't create a portal for you to return home, but it will allow you to communicate between worlds. I've already given one to your parents."

Emma took the mirror and looked up at him. "How does it work?"

"Simply breathe onto the glass, and speak. If your parents are nearby – and I doubt they'd let it out of their site – they will hear you calling them."

Emma nodded and tucked the mirror into the side pocket of her duffel bag. "Thank you," She said, meaning it, and turned her gaze back to the mirror. She took a deep breath and swallowed her anxiety. "Let's go," She told Jefferson, and noted with some surprise that he was offering her his hand. She accepted it, and was surprised to feel him squeeze it gently. When she turned her head back to the mirror, she broke into a run, jerking Jefferson along with her. She closed her eyes instinctively before she hit the mirror, and was surprised to feel the material of the glass part. It felt like gel, of some kind. It didn't really stick to her skin, but felt almost gummy. She fell to her knees and was dimly surprised to see grass. She took a breath and noted that the air itself tasted different.

"Emma?" She heard her name dimly and looked up to see Jefferson leaning over her, concerned. "Come on, up you get," And he pulled her to her feet. "It can be a little disorienting,"

She felt the fogginess clear after a few moments, and took the time to look around properly. They were in a courtyard. It was well manicured; the flowers looked neat and trim, and the grass was short with nary a blade taller than the other. Yet, Emma noted with some confusion, everything else about it looked old and worn down. The stone benches were chipped or broken in half, and the bird baths were tipped over.

"I don't understand," Emma whispered, confused and distracted by the oddity.

"It's a memorial," Jefferson said, explaining the oddity. "It's where the last few members of the royal family made their stand against the Queen of Hearts, and were executed. The Queen made sure it was preserved, to remind everyone that she could not be defeated, and must never be crossed."

"Halt!" A voice snarled at them, and Emma turned to face the man who had spoken. The Guard seemed quite wary at first, nervous and twitchy and angry, but stilled when he caught sight of Emma. Tentatively, he lowered the halberd, his eyes growing wide. "Is it… Can it really be you?"

Emma looked at Jefferson, uncomfortable with the way the guard was gazing at her. "Can it really be… who?" Emma asked, frowning.

"You're her! You have to be! Blonde hair, blue eyes, the mad companion – it all fits!"

"I am not mad!" Jefferson snapped, exasperated, and shook his head.

"_Who is it that you think I am?"_ Emma questioned tersely, resisting the urge to snap at him. Her head ached from traveling through the portal, and she felt unsteady on her legs.

"You are the savior of Wonderland!" The man proclaimed, falling to his knees.

Emma swallowed and looked at Jefferson, who merely shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. She sighed. "I'm really beginning to hate that word. Look, there's been a misunderstanding," She began her explanation, hoping that he would see reason quickly so they could be on their way.

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Grace and Henry tumbled down the Rabbit hole, clinging to each other as they descended. Though their descent was quick, doubtless aided by gravity even when traveling through a portal, they noticed the many off shoots the tunnel had, with knickknacks and brickabracks pressed into the mud and stuck along the walls. When they finally reached the winding tunnel's end, they seemed to be a given a _push_ and tumbled onto the grass.

Henry shook his head, attempting to get rid of the disorienting sensation buzzing in his brain. Grace lightly smacked her ears, as though she had water in them and looked at Henry with mild dismay.

"Well, we're here," She said, excitement creeping into her tone. She winced when, after a firmer smack, her ear popped .

"Aye, and now what shall I do with ye'?"

The children, still in their shrunken state, looked up in blatant fear. A very, very tall Rabbit stood over them, walking on its hind legs like a human. Two swords were strapped to its back, and his belt was equipped with all manner of sharp and evil looking weaponry.

"We needed to get to Wonderland, to save my mother," Henry said quickly, trying to explain. "She's been poisoned and –"

"I care not, lad. My sympathy is reserved for my family, and everything else is for business. I know a few people who would pay a hefty sum for two human children,"

"That's slavery! It's illegal!" Grace snapped bravely, taking a subtle step back and squeezing Henry's hand to indicate that he should do the same.

"Not here it's not. Law of the Red Queen states that any children or beast left unattended are fair game," The Rabbit informed them coldly, and reached down to pick them up. The children scuttled backwards, attempting to avoid the Rabbit's hand. Henry woefully wished that they were the right height again – the baseball bat had shrunk with them, and was useless.

"Who said the children were unattended?" Hook asked, having just slid out of the Rabbit hole. He got to his feet and brandished his sword, making his point quite clear to the Rabbit. Henry envied how steady Hook was on his feet, and dimly wondered if it was because he was used to walking on the deck of a ship.

"Ye' lay claim to them?" The Rabbit asked straightening, turning to face the Captain.

"Aye," Hook agreed, and waited.

"Then it shall be ye that I punish for trespassing on my property," The Rabbit proclaimed, brandishing his sabers. "And I'll take the children as payment for your life, as is my right by the laws of Wonderland,"

A dark, dangerous smile grew on Hook's face. "There is no Queen of Hearts anymore, mate, and even if there was – " He paused, his tone amused. "_I'm a __**pirate**__,"_ He said, and lunged, catching the Rabbit off guard and forcing him to drop a saber in surprise.

"Laws hold no sway over me."

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**A/n: *snort* Poor Henry and Grace. You've been Cora'd. Anyway, please review and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!**

**Peace, love, and happiness to you all!**


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